


sweeter than sweet

by sorbetjin



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Dancer Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Dancer Park Jimin (BTS), Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope Is Whipped, M/M, Min Yoongi | Suga Is Whipped, Pianist Min Yoongi | Suga, Possessive Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Producer Kim Namjoon | RM, Protective Kim Taehyung | V, Psychological Trauma, Rapper Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Rapper Kim Namjoon | RM, Romance, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Singer Kim Taehyung | V, Soft Min Yoongi | Suga, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Thriller, Underground Rapper Min Yoongi | Suga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2019-12-25 12:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18261179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorbetjin/pseuds/sorbetjin
Summary: Jung Hoseok was absolutely convinced that he was incapable of falling in love with anyone in his lifetime.And then he met Min Yoongi.// dark!sope au





	1. prologue // hoseok

   Clouds of white mist formed in front of his eyes with every breath he took. The sound of his heels clicking against the gravel echoed throughout the empty alleyway, the distant shrieking of cats sounding in the otherwise dead silence of the night.

   Hoseok tugged his hoodie over his head, resisting the urge to shiver from the cold. He cursed at the piercing temperature that caused his bones to ache and his joints to creak. He trudged through the dark street, hands in his pockets.

   His eyes darted around his surroundings; taking in the poor peonies, wilting in its own earth; the crudely sprayed graffiti across the dirty walls; and the moonlight glinting off of a kitten's eyes as it brushed up against Hoseok's legs. He hummed, fooling himself into a sense of calm and control—an otherwise non-existent element in his chaotic life.

   Hoseok's fingers traced the thin silver chain that hung from his neck. The irony of having a cross dangling against his chest made him laugh a little. The cold metal only served to remind him of how God's idea of a sick joke was giving him the short end of the stick in life. Adversities? He faced them every step of the way. It was almost as if he had been doomed from birth, an idea that everyone else seemed to agree with, or was at least determined to convince him was true.

   A sigh fell from his chapped lips. Though he was no stranger to walking alone in the night time, his paranoia would kick in as the shadows danced around him, seeming to taunt his every move. His own breathing sounded ragged—the streetlights casted orange hues, reminding him of the warmth that he could no longer expect from his own home.

 _No_ , he harshly reminded himself, desperately shrugging his thoughts away.

   He was dragged back into reality when the sounds of startled footsteps and a door banging shut reached his ears. A child's eyes peered through the curtains, and Hoseok stared back warily. The boy pulled his curtains shut as soon as their eyes met.

   Hoseok felt a familiar bitter taste rise up in the back of his throat. The entire town knew his name, and of course, the stories that came along with it. Of course, he couldn't blame them. He knew their fears were well-placed. After all, half of the rumours weren't necessarily untrue. Staying out of his path made it easier for both sides, so he didn't quite understand why his heart felt so heavy every time they ran away from him.

   Every night, Hoseok would pass by the abandoned store. Today, too, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The peeling walls; the stained floors; the out of tune piano in the middle of it all. He forced himself to look away.

   The place he called home greeted him. The bed creaked underneath his weight, and he pulled the covers over himself. Tonight, too, he was forced to decide which half of his body he would leave to freeze through the night. He clumsily reached out and turned off the small, flickering nightlight next to his mattress.

Left alone with his thoughts once again, Hoseok couldn't help but wish for someone to stay by his side, too. Though he had stopped going to school ever since he graduated from middle school, he was still trying to convince himself that some part of him was still human. He craved for affection; for someone to talk to without seeing the obvious fear in their eyes; for someone whose whole body didn't scream 'run' whenever Hoseok made eye contact with them.

   Perhaps these were all caused by the irrational fear that was inevitably ingrained within him ever since the day his mother played a cruel prank and left a child to fend for himself in a scary neighbourhood, but Hoseok couldn't bear the thought of being left once again, and feeling the conflicting emotions from that one day, all over again.

   The feeling of confusion was still fresh in his mind, coupled with the anger and hurt that seemed to course through his entire being. He remembered standing underneath the heat of the sun, the sweat forming underneath his oversized shirt, and opening his eyes to a world he could not seem to recognize no matter how hard he tried. The misplaced feeling of embarrassment burnt through him, the shame of not being wanted by your own mother turned him into the person he was today.

   As he stared into the darkness, he further cemented his belief that he would not ever fall in love. Was it possible for someone as cold-hearted as him to fall for anyone in his lifetime? He did not understand emotions as well as he wished he could, and all of his old friends wasted no time telling him so, pointing out that he was no normal human being. He never did understand why a girl shed tears when Hoseok told them about his mother, nor did he understand why terror flashed across their eyes when he confessed his urge to press his fingers against someone's throat.

**_Monster._ **

   He heard it so often that it barely affected him anymore. He wasn't an idiot. He had some bit of self-awareness within him. He understood that they did not want him around, and he understood that he would get into trouble if word ever got out that his urges to commit sin was slowly but surely building up.

   Though he managed to take care of the problem, complete silencing was impossible, after all. Rumours spread fast through their small neighbourhood. He was branded as the freak of the town, and no one dared to look at him, let alone talk with him. The looks of sympathy turned into fear and disgust overnight.

   He scoffed to himself as he fell victim to his own drowsiness, the ringing of crickets a comforting constant in his life.

_How can a monster ever fall in love,_

_...right?_


	2. ivory keys // yoongi

********

   A low cough echoed throughout the empty street. Underneath the flickering lights, a young man walked along the small, secluded street, his right hand pressed against the walls.

   In his other hand, his phone weakly illuminated the path ahead of him. He had heard the rumours about this part of town. He knew better than to walk in the dark, depending solely on the dying lights above him.

   Min Yoongi eyed the messy graffiti along the dirty surfaces. Today, too, there was another fresh one on top of the others. Hot pink was sprayed messily, retracing the old, faded drawings underneath. He had never crossed paths with the person behind the vandalism, but Yoongi figured if the rumours were even the slightest bit true, he did not want to risk an encounter with anyone suspicious.

He paused in his steps, looking up.

   Before him, red light spilled from the abandoned shop. Today, too, he would pass his night playing the piano in the middle of the abandoned shop.

   The door creaked open, and Yoongi sat down onto the wrinkly leather seat, his fingers sliding over the piano cover. He remembered when he first accidentally wandered into the area, and found the dusty piano. He had spent hours cleaning it up and tuning it.

   His fingers landed on top of the ivory keys as he had done so many times before. Ever since he stumbled across the shop on fateful day, he had started sneaking in at night. Nobody else seemed to be around the area anyway, and the walls seemed to be soundproof, so it wasn’t like he was bothering anyone in particular.

   The keys felt heavy as he pressed down, his muscle memory from years of playing kicking in. He let himself be swayed by the familiar, welcoming melody, closing his eyes. He had heard this sound for so long, captivated by the tune, but he could never for the life of him recall where he had first heard it from.

   The rich sound of the piano resonated within him. It was like a blessing to him, the poor boy who could only afford an electronic keyboard that could never capture the sounds he wanted, even after he had worked himself almost to death to save up for it. Finding a working piano that nobody wanted was almost like fate.

Yoongi’s fingers slipped.

   His eyes opened, his lips pursed as dissatisfaction started to rise within him. Today must not be a good day. He prided himself in being a perfectionist when it came to his music—rarely did he make mistakes. Screwing up a song that was burned into him left him with a strange feeling of unease, though he shrugged it off, blaming it on his frozen fingers.

He pulled his jacket, a few sizes too big for his scrawny figure, shivering when a cool breeze hit him.

   The silence in the shop was deafening now. It had always been comforting, but tonight, everything seemed _off_. He felt wary, and his sleep-deprived mind unhelpfully decided to recall all the tales he had heard from the townspeople.

Yoongi’s nimble fingers found its way to the lighter in his coat pocket.

   He watched as the flames danced before him. The small yet strong light casted a red glow overtop his pale skin. The temptation to drop the lighter onto the floor and watch the piano be consumed by the inferno was stronger than ever, but he managed to restrain himself. Though he doubt anyone would care if the long-forgotten shop burned down, he would hate himself forever if he burned down the only thing that still brought him joy in such a dreary world.

   He hung his head low, basking in the silence, trying his best to relax. He was too tense, perhaps it was from the extra shift he begged his boss to take earlier that day, but he was far too high strung.

The door creaked ever so slightly and clicked shut behind him.

_Click._

Yoongi felt his blood ran cold.

   His head snapped up, and he spun around in his seat. Every hair on his body stood up, and he could feel beads of sweat forming on his skin. His heart pounded against his chest.

There was no one there.

 _Did he hear wrong?_ Yoongi’s breaths came in short gulps of air. _Was it possible that he was having auditory hallucinations? Did all the caffeine finally whisk his sanity away?_

 _No_. He was sure he heard something.

A million possibilities raced through his mind, none of them positive.

   “Am I going crazy?” Yoongi murmured to himself, turning back to his piano. He was sure he had closed the door behind him, as he always did. But now that he thought of it, he did feel a strange cold breeze earlier, which would’ve been impossible if the door was shut.

   He needed to get out of there. If he stayed a moment longer, he might just end up on the front page as a dead body. But he did not like the odds of the intruder still lurking outside, perhaps lying in wait for him to pass through the dark, empty streets.

   His eyes immediately went to Jungkook’s name on his phone screen. He gulped, his finger hovering over the call button.

   It was around the time Jungkook was due back from his night classes, but Yoongi did not like the idea of a minor coming to pick him up when there was a lunatic on the loose. Though the boy was a dependable person who had trained in martial arts, and certainly a lot bigger and more intimidating than him, Yoongi wasn’t sure he could survive a street fight.

   All of his rational thoughts flew out of the window when he saw the unmistakeable glint of metal out of the corner of his eyes through the shop window. His fingers fumbled for the call button, and as he waited for Jungkook to pick up, his hand closed around the pen he had in his pocket. It wasn’t much, but Yoongi found a small bit of comfort in the idea that he could try to stab someone with a blunt object if he was ever attacked.

   Jungkook picked up. “Hyung? What’s up? Why are you calling me so late at night?” His voice crackled through the speaker.

   Yoongi tried to keep his voice steady, but he was embarrassingly aware of the slight crack in his voice. “Can you come pick me up? I’m at that shop I told you about, and I think I heard someone close the door behind me.”

   He must’ve sounded like he was scared out of his mind, because Jungkook didn’t make fun of him or question why he was idiotic enough to go there at night. “I’m close enough now. Wait.”

   Yoongi swallowed harshly. How could Jungkook even be close? His cram school was at least 15 minutes away.

He tried to pass the time by scrolling through Twitter, watching as the clock ticked down.

   Not even 5 minutes later, Jungkook threw the door open, huffing and out of breath. Sweat drenched his uniform, his shirt clinging to his body. He had his coat in his hands, and his blazer was tucked into his bag. He must’ve taken them off so he could run to the place easier.

   A rush of relief flooded Yoongi, yet a pang of guilt hit him, too. The night was freezing, yet here he was rushing over to him in thin clothes, sweating buckets, just because his hyung got too scared to walk alone.

   The seat creaked as Yoongi stood up and stumbled towards Jungkook. If it wasn’t for his pride, he might’ve burst into tears. He wasn’t usually easily spooked, but he had a rough day at work, and perhaps it took a toll on him.

   Jungkook’s forehead was scrunched up. He immediately placed a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

   Yoongi gulped, his hands stumbling to find Jungkook’s to link their fingers together. He found comfort in holding someone’s hands, and Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he didn’t brush him off like he usually does. “I- I was playing the piano and the door closed behind me. I think I saw someone outside, too.”

   The younger frowned. “Please don’t come here alone... Hyung, you know this place is dangerous. What would you have done if I weren’t out of my classes yet? Jin-hyung isn’t around, and Jimin-hyung is away for his dance school.”

   Yoongi bit his lip. He had an image of a cold person to maintain, but at the moment he was scared shitless and didn’t care how weak or pathetic he must’ve looked, getting scared over a small sound. He was getting scolded by someone younger, but he quietly agreed and apologized.

   Jungkook tightened his jaw. “Let’s get home, then. We shouldn’t stay here if someone is creeping around.” Yoongi nodded weakly, letting himself be escorted out by Jungkook. He spared one last glance at the shop as they walked away.

   The feeling of unease never left him, even as the store disappeared from sight, even as Jungkook bid him goodnight at his doorstep and walked away.

   As his eyes fluttered close and his dreams consumed him, the image of a burning piano crept into his mind, and the same haunting melody taunted him.

Min Yoongi did not sleep well that night.


	3. first meeting // hoseok

   If he wasn’t holding onto a wall with one hand, he might’ve collapsed there and then. Hoseok’s knees felt weak, and the cold weather of the night wasn’t helping, either. His whole body felt as if he had been dunked in freezing water, and he was having trouble keeping his mind sane and awake enough to get himself home.

   He swiped his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood from his cut lip all over his chin. He had gotten worse injuries before, but it still stung whenever he moved his lips even an inch. He debated getting medical supplies from the 24-hour shop down the road, but he decided against it. All he wanted to do was to lie down in his cheap mattress and get a good night’s sleep.

   Hoseok stared down at his hands. His fingernails were caked with dry blood. He was sure he managed to knock them out without leaving a mark, but he might’ve gone overboard again without realizing it. He sighed. If it weren’t for the fact that both sides were known as the lowest of the low—the scum of the town, he was sure the police would’ve gotten involved and his unlucky ass would be sitting in a jail cell. As he remembered his pitiful living conditions, he was starting to wonder if he would be better off in prison, after all.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the unmistakeable ringing sound of music.

   He knitted his eyebrows together. Who on earth dared to play music in such a shady area of town, this late at night? For a second, he thought it must be some city boy who was a naïve fool, playing his indie playlist in the middle of nowhere, essentially.

   The sound was very faint. If he didn’t grow up having to sharpen his hearing to avoid getting jumped and carted off for human trafficking, he might’ve missed it. But he could hear the sounds of a piano being played from… _somewhere._

   He wasn’t particularly spiritual, but he wondered if he was about to encounter a ghost for the first time, or maybe he had taken one too many punches and was hallucinating pretty songs. Both options didn’t seem too good for him.

   The only piano he had ever seen in the area was the one in the abandoned shop around the corner. He held his breath as he made the turn.

   He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see. Nothing? A spectre? A playful cat? But he sure as hell wasn’t expecting a boy to be sitting there.

It was as if all the air had been knocked out of Hoseok’s lungs. He froze in his spot.

   The boy was the prettiest thing he had ever seen in his life. A small face, pale skin, his messy hair falling into his eyes. His pouty red lips were slightly bruised, as if he had spent a lot of time worrying them with his teeth. His cheeks were flushed red from the cold.

He must’ve been absolutely dumbfounded by the boy, because Hoseok was convinced he had seen an angel by mistake.

   He looked to be around Hoseok’s age, maybe younger, but he had a petite frame. His oversized jacket seemed to engulf him entirely, making him appear even smaller than he actually was. His delicate fingers pressed the keys ever so gently, playing a song Hoseok had never heard before.

   He wasn’t sure why, but he felt so drawn to him. Perhaps it was the look on his face that Hoseok was absolutely fascinated by-- it was as if he was in a world of his own. Or maybe it was the song he was playing, so hauntingly beautiful.

   The boy had his eyes closed, basking in his piano playing, and Hoseok felt almost sorry for him. Maybe he didn’t know what he had gotten himself into. Maybe he was new around town, and didn’t know of the rumours. Not that the Hoseok was the one who went around attacking people at night, though. Although he had gotten himself into a few scraps, and had committed a few low-level crimes, Hoseok would never go as low to ambushing an unsuspecting man. The town just went and assumed it was him, and he didn't bother to try clear his own name.

Or maybe he was getting soft.

   He sure as hell wouldn’t feel good about attacking someone who looked so innocent, as if he had never touched even an inch of darkness in his life. Hoseok felt an odd sense of affinity with him, watching him play with an expression he couldn’t quite understand. The piano guy looked a bit sad, a bit forlorn, but at peace, too, and it bothered him.

 _Wasn’t the piano broken?_ Hoseok found himself wondering. Last time he tried playing it, a few years ago when he broke in with Taehyung, he was sure he remembered Taehyung being disappointed that the piano was off-key. When on earth did it get fixed?

   The boy stopped playing, and his hands fell to his lap. His head hung low, and Hoseok knew he should probably hide, lest he wanted the boy to catch him staring. His heart was beating fast, but he told himself it must be the leftover adrenaline from the fight he had earlier. His body couldn’t possibly be reacting to the breathtakingly charming guy playing the piano in the middle of the night.

   Hoseok retraced his step, and hid behind the corner. His house was close, but he figured the boy would see him if he decided to pretend to be a casual passerby.

   Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw something move among the shadows. Clearly he wasn’t the only one attracted by the sound of a piano in the middle of the night.

   Hoseok watched as a man, probably a foot taller than the piano guy was, push the door of the shop open. He had a penknife in his hands. Hoseok felt every inch of him scream for him to move and stop the guy, because he was clearly intent on harming the piano guy.

   Hoseok stepped out of his hiding space. If the guy managed to hear the muted piano notes, then he was sure the guy could hear his footsteps, too.

Sure enough, the guy turned around.

   Hoseok tilted his head. “What do you think you’re doing?” For a split second, the man looked about ready to fight him. Hoseok was no stranger to street brawls, so he stood there calmly.

   He was prepared for the man to start throwing punches, but he’d much rather go about it without breaking into his second fight of the night. “This is my turf. Get lost.”

   First, recognition flashed across the man’s eyes. Then, terror dawned upon him. Maybe he was just realizing who he was seeing before him. Hoseok didn’t look too intimidating—he wasn’t particularly tall or buff, nor was his voice deep and husky enough to appear threatening, but he knew his name had a reputation amongst the locals. The man clicked the door shut behind him, and scurried away.

   Hoseok sunk back into the shadows, sure that the piano guy must’ve heard the sound of the door. Without missing a beat, his head snapped up and he turned around. Hoseok caught a clearer view of his face, and he almost had a heart attack; he wasn’t expecting the guy to look even better in the light. Despite the clear panic in his eyes, he remained seated. His fingers fumbled for his phone, and Hoseok watched as he hesitated before calling a number.

   His friend must not be anywhere near, because the guy seemed to clam up and tried his best to keep his mind occupied as he waited. Hoseok decided to keep watch over the poor guy, at least until his friend showed up. He wasn’t sure if the thugs in the area was dumb enough to return after he made his presence known, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He didn’t like the idea of leaving the boy defenceless, in the middle of the night, in such a dangerous place.

   Hoseok rolled his eyes, wondering why the fuck he thought it was a good idea to play the piano in the dead of the night in an abandoned shop. He must either be really brave, or a complete fool.

   The stars in the night sky were pretty, but Hoseok decided he’d much rather watch the guy pretend to be tough and not scared out of his mind while scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

A few minutes later, a boy, sweating and out of breath, skidded to a halt in front of the shop.

   Hoseok raised an eyebrow at his appearance. He seemed muscular; a bit bigger than the piano guy. He must've rushed over there immediately after night classes, because he was still in his uniform, his blazer hanging on his arm. His eyes were so intense, Hoseok was kind of glad he was hiding in the shadows, otherwise he would have to awkwardly explain that he was just watching over the guy out of concern, and not just stalking him for fun. He must’ve been very worried about his friend’s safety.

   The piano guy immediately rush over to the new guy, and Hoseok heard their voices clearly as the student threw the door open. He was sure he heard the piano guy call the other one ‘Jungkook’, but he bit his lip in frustration, hearing no mention of any other name that could be his.

   The guy called Jungkook seemed to be telling the piano guy off, who appeared smaller than ever, curling in on himself. Though he seemed calm and collected, he radiated nervousness, and his eyes betrayed his façade by showing the immense relief that he had someone he knew beside him. The two of them exited the shop and started making their way home, presumably.

Hoseok watched the two of them disappear into the night.

   He wasn’t sure what exactly he was feeling within him. His heart definitely skipped a beat when he saw the piano guy for the first time, though he didn’t even know it was physically possible until that very moment.  He disliked the feeling when his stomach twisted and turned when he saw that _Jungkook_ fellow holding onto the piano guy’s hands protectively.

   When Hoseok went home that night, he felt as if he finally had a purpose in life. He wanted to know more about the fool that slipped inside a shop to play the piano late at night. He wanted the boy to look at him like he looked at the piano, and he wanted to hear him play over and over again.

   For once, he had a goal to wake up to. For once, Hoseok felt as if he was alive—his whole body buzzed with energy. For once, he could tell himself that maybe, he was the slightest bit normal. For once, he thought maybe he could finally feel _human_ again.

He was determined to know more about the guy who played the piano.

 

 

 


	4. white lie // hoseok

   Though the cool weather was a nightmare during the night, in the evening sun, the balance of cold and hot felt soothing against his skin. Hoseok and Taehyung were at their usual hangout space by the train tracks, where the wildflowers still managed to peek through the gravel. The sound of birds chirping in the distance made Hoseok feel somewhat nostalgic.

   Even though they were sitting underneath a tree for some shade, a few rays of sunlight still managed to filter through the leaves, casting beautiful patterns resembling ocean waves against Taehyung's caramel tan skin. Anyone who took a look at the boy, past the clothes that never seemed to fit him right, and his messy, unkempt hair, would see that he was absolutely stunning. He had the face of a prince—and underneath the sunlight he appeared even more ethereal.

   No matter how handsome the boy in front of him was, Hoseok found himself recalling the memories of the night before- the cute piano guy, and his friend, Jungkook.

“Hoseok-hyung? Are you listening to me?”

   He snapped out of his thoughts. Taehyung’s pouty face greeted him as his eyes struggled to refocus on his friend. “Uh, sorry, no.” He admitted, feeling guilty. Normally, he didn’t care about how others thought of him. He might even go as far as to say he would intentionally piss people off. But as everyone did, he had a particular soft spot for Taehyung. Hurting him would feel akin to kicking a puppy. “Can you repeat it again?” He tried gently, knowing Taehyung was the type to get upset easily.

Taehyung sulked, crossing his arms. “No. You don’t care anyway.”

   A spike of panic went through him. Fuck, did he manage to screw up one more friendship? He couldn’t bear the thought of driving away the only person who still stuck around him. Hoseok nudged him, trying to revive the playful mood. “Hey, I promise I’ll listen properly this time. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night, so I got distracted.”

   Taehyung seemed too excited to share his story to stay upset, so he immediately perked up again. “Today, someone asked me to sing for their song! They said they liked my voice and wanted me to sing something they wrote themselves. I’m going to record at their place tomorrow.”

   Hoseok couldn’t help but smile at his giddiness. Taehyung’s whole face lit up and he looked like he was glowing. His wide smile was endearing, and made Hoseok feel warm and fluffy inside. It was hard not to mirror his cheerfulness.

“That’s great news! Make sure to let me have a listen after you’re done recording.”

“Of course, hyung. You’ve always been my top supporter, after all.”

   Hoseok genuinely liked spending time with Taehyung. At first, he thought Tae was playing a sick joke by saying he wanted to get to know him more. After a while, he understood that Taehyung was just a naïve, determined idiot. He found him annoying at first, but he grew comfortable after a while, and started doting on him more and more.

   The younger boy had never judged him based off of the wild rumours he had heard, but instead befriended him and listened to his side of the story. He picked up on the fact that Hoseok struggled with keeping his violence in check, so instead of treating him like a ticking time-bomb, he had resolved himself to start trying to reduce the number of accidents Hoseok would get himself into.

   He appreciated the fact that he had someone to rein him in, because the number of times he managed to avoid getting into a huge mess had significantly increased. Taehyung seemed to have a knack with spotting cops and escaping through their fingertips, without fail, every single time.It wasn’t something you’d expect to be part of the skillset of someone who appeared so innocent and charming. Yet similar to how Taehyung knew he was forced to commit small crimes in order to survive, he also knew a little secret of Tae’s.

“Did you manage to finish your masterpiece last night?” Hoseok asked, tapping his arm for attention.

   Taehyung was a bit of an artist—alongside his singing, he had dabbled in various forms of self-expression. They both had a passion for dancing, though Hoseok more than him. If anyone looked at him closely, they’d notice he seemed to have permanently stained hands, with paint flecks and carbon marks. Even now, he had a pink spray can in hand. Hoseok suspected he only started to learn how to paint on a canvas so he could let out some steam on days where he can’t visit his art wall.

   The younger boy grinned proudly. “I’m on my ninth layer. Hyung, I got really lucky last night. The cops were chasing me, and I hid in an alleyway and didn’t get caught. I swear, they get stupider every time.”

“What colour are you gonna do next?”

“I used pink this time, so I think I want to go for something else.” Another smile spread across his face. “Hyung, pick a colour for me.”

   Hoseok was a bit surprised by the question. He didn’t have a streak of creativity when it came to colours, but he didn’t want to just say whatever, considering the fact that Taehyung was running the risk of getting into legal trouble. “How about yellow? Like that flower over there.”

   Tae looked about ready to engulf him with a bear hug, and Hoseok tensed, preparing himself for the weight that was about to crush him. Sure enough, Taehyung tackled him. “That’s a pretty colour. I think I’ll pick some yellow spray paint on my way home.”

   Hoseok never questioned why Tae didn’t go to cram school despite the fact that he was a senior in high school. He was glad he had a friend to hang out with in the evening before his job since he had the night shift, but he felt kind of worried for him, because unlike Hoseok, Taehyung was a promising student. Hoseok knew money was a sensitive topic for the both of them, so he’d feel like a jerk if he asked why Tae wouldn’t go to expensive extra classes. Also, he was only a middle-school graduate. What did _he_ know about lecturing someone about their future?  


   Hoseok glanced at the watch around Tae’s wrist. It was about time he went to his delivery job, which was in a different town. Since his name is pretty much completely useless if he wanted to get a job in the local area, he had resorted to applying for jobs in different places.

   Ever since he met Tae, his way of getting money had changed drastically. After he had gotten himself kicked out of the orphanage, he had started stealing. Taehyung freaked out when he first found out. Hoseok ignored him at first, because stealing was just a faster and easier way to get money. But after seeing the hurt and concern in his friend’s eyes, he caved in, and got himself a job as a delivery guy.

   It was barely enough to buy himself food, but he felt a bit better knowing the money he spent was the money he had worked to earn. Another perk of the job was that he could bring home the bike he used for the job home, so he never had to worry about transport.

Tae noticed him glancing at his watch. “Is it time for work?”

Hoseok nodded, getting up to stretch. “Yeah, you gonna go home now or what?”

   “No, I think I’ll stop by my friend’s workplace. Jungkook kept complaining that he was lonely because they barely get any customers. I’ll come to surprise him.” Taehyung said happily, pulling out his phone to text his friend.

Hoseok froze. Did he hear right? Was it a coincidence? _How many Jungkooks could there possibly be?_

   He tried to maintain his composure, turning to Taehyung as he strapped on his helmet. “You got a new friend, huh? What does he look like? You sure got some nerve, leaving your hyung behind for someone else.” He teased, trying to hide the fact that he was thirsty was information.

   Taehyung didn’t seem to notice his desperation, laughing. “We go to the same school. We met because he also liked singing. I have a picture with him! He’s a handsome guy.”

   Hoseok stared at the screen that Tae thrusted in front of his face. He swallowed harshly _. It was him, alright._ The same muscular build, the same round eyes. No doubt about it, he was the same Jungkook that was with the piano guy.

“Hey, he really is good-looking.” Hoseok said, pretending like he had never seen him before. He tried to sound as casual as possible. “Is he younger than you?”

“Yeah, Jungkookie is a year younger.”

“But he has a job?”

“He says he doesn’t need it, but the pay is good. He works at a department store, same town as your delivery job.”

   Hoseok perked up. A place that was willing to hire an inexperienced boy, with good pay? He gulped. Should he try his luck? “…Do you think I can apply for a job there? I need to take up more jobs.”

   Taehyung didn’t seem suspicious at all. He even seemed enthusiastic about Hoseok’s interest in getting the job. “That’s a great idea! Jungkook won’t stop whining about wanting a male co-worker. He’s awkward around girls, and all the other employees are women.”

   Hoseok laughed, but his mind was in a different place. If he could get a job there, he’d be killing two birds with one stone. Not only would he get another source of income, he could also find out more about the piano guy.

Hoseok glanced at Taehyung.

“Hey, ask your friend for the manager’s number. I’ll apply tonight.”

 

   And that was how Hoseok started working at a department store. He somehow managed to convince his delivery job boss to switch his shifts so he would do the morning shift instead, just so he could line up his night shifts with Jungkook.

“Hey, you’re the friend Taehyung was talking about, right? I’m Hoseok!” He smiled at the boy. He figured he should start being friendly, otherwise there’d be too much tension between them later on.

Jungkook seemed to be pretty shy. Why was Taehyung always picking weird friends?

The younger boy shook his hand. “I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

   Hoseok wanted to make himself look busy. Thankfully, he was assigned to something that wasn’t complicated, like moving boxes and restocking shit. He wasn’t very smart, so at least he got the more manual labour type of job. He picked up a box and started stacking the cans of fruits onto the shelves. “You’re still young. Why are you working here?”

Jungkook’s ears turned red. “They pay me well. I wanted to save up money so I can buy a piano.”

   “It’s good to have a goal.” Hoseok said, flashing a smile. The word piano made him raise an eyebrow, but he turned his back to Jungkook before he could see the suspicion on his face. “There’s no need to be so tense around me. We’re gonna work together for a while, so.”

   Jungkook bit his lip. His muscular body really didn’t fit his cute face and shy personality. Judging from the night he first saw Jungkook, though, he knew that he can be really serious and determined. “Sorry, I’m just not used to working with other people.”

   Hoseok kind of understood his reluctance to open up. If it wasn’t for the fact he was on a mission to get more info (and he didn’t want to upset Taehyung by upsetting his friend), he would also be quiet and wouldn’t bother him. “No worries. It took me a while to get used to. What time does your shift end? Wanna get something to eat after this?”

Jungkook glanced at the clock. “10 pm. But is it ok?”

   Hoseok laughed, assuring him it’s okay. Before the flow of the conversation could die down, he remembered Jungkook mentioned something about classes to the piano guy. He frowned. “Hey, you’re a student, right? You don’t have night classes?”

“No, I don’t. I prefer working than studying.”

_Huh._

Why did he lie to his own friend?

   Hoseok figured he must have his reasons. But it’s not like he had much time to think about it anyway, because out of nowhere, someone popped his head into the shop. Hoseok nearly dropped the can of pineapples he was holding.

“Yoongi-hyung! What are you doing here?”

   The panic in Jungkook’s voice was enough to snap him back into reality. Hoseok hastily closed his gaping mouth. He didn’t think he’d strike gold this early.

   The guy from before, the piano guy, the fool who played a broken piano in an abandoned shop, was right there in front of him. He was as pretty as he remembered him-- hair in his eyes, pale skin, and cherry lips. He was a lot calmer than he remembered him. Granted, he was being stalked by a dangerous guy with a penknife the day they met.

   His voice was deeper than he expected. “I asked your mum what time you’d come back from your classes. And she told me you’ve been working instead.”

Jungkook seemed ready to be scolded. “Uh-“

   Then the guy, whose name was apparently Yoongi, slid a container across the table. “She said you started work at 6, so I figured you didn’t have dinner yet. I brought you some.”

Waves of relief visibly washed over Jungkook. “Hyung, you’re not angry I didn’t tell you?”

“I’m sorry you felt the need to lie to me. But, you had your reasons.”

   Jungkook beamed and looked ready to hug him. Hoseok could already see how Taehyung’s presence had started to influence him.

   Hoseok got up from his spot on the floor. He leaned against the countertop. Yoongi was right in front of him. He could not let this chance pass by. He had to make his presence known. He whipped out his best smile. “I take it our dinner date is cancelled?”

   Yoongi seemed even smaller up close. Though their height difference wasn’t much, he had a more petite build when compared to Hoseok. Hoseok told his heart to calm down, because he was sure everyone could hear how loud his stupid heart was beating.

   Jungkook smiled sheepishly. He glanced at the schedule that was pinned beside their storeroom’s door. “My next shift is on Friday. We can go out that day instead?” After Hoseok nodded, he turned back to his friend. “You don’t have work today, hyung?”

“No. I met up with Namjoon today and recorded a track with him.”

This caught Hoseok’s attention. His mind screamed, _yes, a conversation opener!_

“Are you a singer?” he asked, intrigued. He knew he played the piano, so it was a natural assumption.

Yoongi flushed red. He hesitated, before glancing at Jungkook who gave him a supportive nod. His voice was quiet, shy and somewhat embarrassed. “…I’m a rapper.”

   Hoseok brightened up. That was unexpected. He found it cute that he looked so tiny and harmless, and played a classical instrument, but was a rapper, apparently. He couldn’t imagine this boy spitting fire no matter how hard he tried. He never wanted to see something so badly in his life. “Really? I rap, too!”

He didn’t. He had never rapped a day in his life.

   Yoongi looked pleasantly surprised. “Hey, we should meet up sometimes. My friend is looking for more rappers. Contact me when you’re free.”

   At that moment, he didn’t care that he was bluffing, and was getting himself into a web of lies. He had gotten Yoongi’s number, and he was further ahead of his plan to get to know him than he had expected. He figured it would’ve taken a week to know his name, and a month to finally see him. Who knew he’d see him on the day he started working?

Taehyung didn’t share his happiness, though.

“Why did you lie to him?!”

   Hoseok curled in on himself. He didn’t expect Taehyung to raise his voice at him. But he did feel as if he needed someone to knock some rationale back into him. A scolding was just what he needed. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. What else could I say? If I said, _hey, I dance_ , how would he react? _Oh, come dance while I rap!_ That’s just weird.”

Tae groaned. “You could’ve thought it through! What will you do when you meet up with him again?”

Hoseok shrugged. “Guess I have to learn how to rap before then.”

   “That’s practically impossible. From what I’ve heard from Jungkook, he’s an underground rapper. His standards are a lot higher than your run-of-the-mill wannabe rapper. If you’re not good enough, he might think you’re making fun of him.” Taehyung sighed, running his fingers through his hair. The exasperation was clear as day in his voice. He looked at Hoseok like he was an idiot, though he had to admit, he kind of deserved it. “Hyung, you’re in deep shit.”

Hoseok thought there wasn’t a better way to describe his situation.

 


	5. sucker punch // hoseok

   A sheen of sweat covered his skin, the sun’s fading orange glow momentarily turning his tan skin golden. Hoseok wiped his forehead carelessly, swiping his wrists over his face. He hunched over, hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. The music blaring from the cheap speakers in the corner of his room drowned out the sounds of his harsh breathing.

   Again, and again, he repeated the same song, his feet moving as it on its own, his eyes closed as he let his body flow with the rhythm. Hoseok had been so busy with work that he hadn’t had time to dance. He needed to let out some steam. His body had been aching to move. He needed more. A few minutes just wasn't enough.

   With the deafening music guiding him, he felt his muscles loosening up as the familiar burn of intense dancing greeted him. Dancing had always been his escape. It was the only part of him that felt real and raw. Whenever his mind was troubled, he’d rely on dancing to clear his thoughts.

   Ever since he had started his second job at the department store, his money troubles had decreased slightly, but his other problems haunted his every waking moment. He had accomplished his goals of meeting Yoongi, but now he had a different problem-- a problem so dire, he wasn't quite willing to admit just how serious it actually was.

With his head pounding and his blood pumping, his mind raced, and he was distracted for a split second. 

   His knees buckled underneath him, catching him off guard, and he quickly threw out his hands as he slammed into the ground. Groaning, he stared at the dots of blood forming on his palm. Who knew that even he could fall victim to idiocy at times. He must've been more tired than he thought he was. Still, even as he worked on bandaging his hands, the same thoughts kept nagging him. Even as he worked, it was constantly on the back of his mind. _Rap?_ He had no idea what he was going to do. He hadn’t set a date to meet Yoongi yet, but still, he wanted it to be sooner than later. He cursed himself for talking out of his ass and bluffing his way through his words just to get Yoongi’s number.

   He considered borrowing Taehyung’s phone and just googling _how to rap_ , but Taehyung had been busy with his recording sessions the past week or so. Hoseok begged him to find him some good beats he could practice to, but with his limited vocabulary and lack of experience, he stumbled over his words, his flow awkward and aggravatingly simple.

   He figured he had no choice but to practice. Sighing, he crawled across his floor and crept onto his mattress, staring at his open notebook. Lines of scribbles and messily scrawled phrases filled the page. He tapped his pen against his chin.

Maybe he should narrow it down. Being general won’t help him in the slightest.

   He wracked his brain for a topic. Did he want to talk about his problems? Society? Love? _Was Yoongi even the type to appreciate love songs?_ _Or would he prefer full-on angst, criticizing how fucked up the world is?_

Hoseok knew the second the tip of his pen met the white paper that he could write a thousand things about the new feelings he had discovered. He remembered the fluttering feeling growing within his stomach when he first saw Min Yoongi. He remembered the jittery buzz in his palms as his hands grew clammy when Yoongi looked at him with his piercing eyes. He remembered the anxiety he felt when he first felt his heart skip a beat, thinking he was having a heart attack at the young age of 19.

   He bit his lips, his teeth pulling on his lip ring, tracing the words written on his notebook. He wasn’t used to fancy words, and he wasn’t even sure if he was using them right, but he knew that he felt somewhat satisfied with his attempt after countless of nights of trial and error. He had nearly given up, thinking maybe Yoongi wasn’t worth all the grind. But when he stared at his paper, with words that looked like they were meant for a long-lost lover, he knew he was in too deep.

   He stared at the cracked mirror Taehyung had helped him hang up in his small room. The patina of dust over it bothered him, but he didn’t care enough to wipe it off. He stared at his own reflection. His face flushed, his ears red. He quickly looked away, a sudden spike of embarrassment going through him. He was acting like a lovesick schoolgirl, writing songs to their crushes. He buried his face in his pillow, groaning at the realization that he was pining for another man.

“…What am I doing?” He murmured.

-

Jungkook waved him goodbye, his smiling face clear as ever as the light from the shop hit his face.

   Hoseok trudged back lazily inside the shop. He had the late night shift that day, and he was starting to regret it. His mind was fuzzy as he stumbled his way to the second aisle, crouching down to restock the bottom shelf.

   The quiet squeak of the door opening made Hoseok’s hands freeze. A man, wearing a large oversized jacket, loomed over him. Hoseok stood up, brushing his hands off on his pants. “How can I help you?” He asked warily. The man looked suspicious, but Hoseok couldn’t risk acting up, especially with 5 CCTV cameras recording his every move.

   The man pulled his fist back, and punched him square in the face. Hoseok crashed into the snack shelf, cans of junk food and dried nuts falling over him. He stayed seated, trying to get his bearings right. He knew he was not in a good condition as soon as he opened his eyes and saw the world spin before him.

   He hadn’t eaten in 2 days, and barely got any sleep, trying to write as many songs as he could before going to bed. He was also out of practice—ever since he had taken up his second job, he hadn’t gotten into any fights. His wrist was stiff and his legs were aching from dancing.

   The man probably didn’t know who he was, Jung Hoseok, aka the nightmare of the next town over, and Hoseok used it to his advantage. The man had underestimated the scrawny employee, and Hoseok will prove him wrong.

   Hoseok shakily got up as soon as the man turned his back on him and started rifling through the cash register. He swiped his legs from under him, and quickly placed a solid punch at his ribs as soon as he fell to the ground. He recoiled from his attack, cursing. His knuckles turned red and it looked like he had split one open. Thank goodness he had bandages on from that afternoon’s injury, otherwise he would’ve had to watch fresh blood trickle from his wound. The cursed man had placed a metal plate underneath his jacket for another layer of protection, he realized.

   He looked around the room, trying to think of another way to attack his vulnerable spots. Hoseok grabbed the chair from behind the counter and swung it at the man. He must be completely out of it, because he missed, something that had never happened to him before, and the stool barely grazed the man’s shoulders before crashing into the window. The man lunged at him, tackling him to the ground.

   Hoseok glared up at the man as he was pinned down to the floor, his legs locked in place. He knew his chances of fighting off the man was decreasing by the second. He had made many miscalculations, and he would pay the price for it.

   He swallowed harshly when the man pulled out duct tape and put it over his mouth. He was harshly flipped over, the man starting to tape his wrists together. Hoseok craned his neck, ignoring the pain on the side of his face that was pressed against the floor as scanned the room. If he wasn’t used to fighting, he would have freaked out and not kept his cool. He knew from experience that analysing the situation was always the best way to go. Maybe if he quickly grabbed that bottle of soju right beside his face as soon as the man got up--

The door crashed opened, and the robber was thrown off of him with a solid kick to his neck.

Hoseok’s eyes widened when he turned around, shocked.

   Jungkook stood there, instincts kicking in as he took his stance. He went for another kick, bringing the robber down, and quickly put him in a chokehold. The man flailed around, trying to pry him off, but after a few moments, he passed out.

   But Hoseok wasn’t watching Jungkook bravely fighting the man. His eyes were glued on something behing him.

At the door, standing with his jaw hanging open, was Min Yoongi.

   Quickly, the smaller boy fell to his side, ripping off the duct tape. His face was pale and he was shaking as he undid the tape around Hoseok’s wrists. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice having the slightest hint of franticness in it.

   Hoseok couldn’t reply right away. The fact that he couldn’t defeat the man himself bothered him, but the realization that someone had his back and risked their life to fight off his opponent threw his brain into overdrive. Also, Yoongi’s cute face was way too close to his. He was convinced that the boy was just playing with him at this point, with his worried eyes and pouty lips.

Hoseok gulped, shaking his head. “Uh, yeah. I thought Jungkook left-“

Then he was engulfed in a hug.

   It wasn’t from Yoongi, but he still appreciated it. As Jungkook’s muscular arms embraced him, his eyes watched the boy he had a crush on pull out his phone, swiftly dialling the police.

   “Hyung, are you okay? Thank God I stopped and met up with Yoongi-hyung along the way. While we were talking I heard the loudest crash and ran back here.” Jungkook was speaking more than he had ever heard him. The usually quiet boy was so worried he didn’t seem to notice.

   Hoseok glanced at the passed out guy beside him. “Yeah, thanks. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t come.”

“The police will be here in about 5 minutes.” Yoongi said, frowning. “Jungkook, get me that first-aid kit.”

   Yoongi crawled closer. His hand reached out to touch his swollen cheek. He knitted his eyebrows together.  “He punched you good, huh?”

   Hoseok burned in shame. He didn’t want their second encounter to be him looking pathetic on the floor. But he was also distracted by Yoongi’s long fingers sending electricity through his entire body with just a single touch. He always kept his priorities straight no matter the situation, after all. Having Yoongi fuss over him wasn’t too bad.

The sting of the medicine against his wound was, though.

He flinched, and Yoongi pursed his lips as he concentrated on cleaning out the cut. “What’d he do to you?”

   Hoseok sighed. “Knocked me into that shelf over there. He came in all of a sudden and punched me.”He tilted his cheek and let Yoongi bandage up his cheek. He obviously couldn’t say he was used to being beaten up, so he cleared his throat and nodded at the robber’s unconscious form. “I was too disoriented to fight back. Couldn’t even land a punch on him.”

Jungkook frowned. “But he had scratches on his face, too. I thought you wrestled him to the ground, or something.”

   Yoongi raised an eyebrow, sceptical. Hoseok made the foolish mistake of rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Yoongi grabbed his hands out of nowhere. Hoseok almost melted into the ground. His weak heart could not handle Yoongi touching him. But of course, his happiness died as soon as Yoongi asked gruffly, “What happened to your hands? Why are they bandaged?”

   Hoseok pulled his hands away. Any second longer and he might combust on the spot. “I, uh, tripped this morning.” He mumbled his way through his explanation about dancing in the afternoon.

Jungkook’s face lit up. “You dance? Me too!”

   Hoseok felt a weird wave of euphoria coming over him. “You do? We should dance together sometime.”

   Yoongi got up, stretching, uninterested in all the dancing talk. His sweater rode up, and Hoseok caught a glimpse of his pale stomach. He gulped. Oh god, he was not going to be _that_ perverted, was he? Yoongi had just helped him with his injuries, and here he was, freaking out over seeing his skin. What a creep.

   Though Hoseok insisted that they went home first as it was getting late, Jungkook stubbornly said that since he was involved, he should also be there for the police questioning. Yoongi just nodded and lingered around them as the police asked about the details of what had happened.

   Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the police left with the robber. “I was so nervous. The police is scary. How come you were so calm while answering?”

   Of course, Hoseok could not say he was used to getting in and out of police stations, so he just smiled and shrugged, trying to wave it off and hoping they wouldn’t notice that he was, yet again, talking out his ass. He should really learn his lesson before he fucks up again and inevitably create another irreversible problem. “Because I’m just glad we all got away okay. We did nothing wrong, so there was no need to be scared.”

   Yoongi nodded, and as usual, Hoseok hadn’t had a drop of calmness inside him with Yoongi being right beside him. “Im glad, too. Make sure you get your bandages replaced every day. Wouldn’t want you to get an infection.”

   “Yeah, your face is handsome. It would be a pity if it got scarred.” Jungkook said. Yoongi nodded in agreement. Hoseok struggled to keep a straight face.

   “How about you come and change it for me every day?” He said flirtatiously. He figured it was better to hint at him his true intentions, otherwise they might end up as just friends. But he still had his dignity to preserve, so he made sure to say it in a semi-joking way.

   Yoongi seemed stunned for a quick moment, and Hoseok wondered if he had seen it correctly—his wide eyes, his raised eyebrows, the slight flush in his cheeks and his open lips. No. He must’ve been so sleepy he couldn’t see clearly. Yoongi huffed. “I can’t come every day, of course. I have work.”

Hoseok grinned. “Then promise to see me on your off-days?”

   Yoongi appeared slightly flustered, but he replied without missing a beat. “No, I’m not promising anything to brats like you.”

“Aren’t you younger than me?”

“No, so shut it.”

“Should I call you hyung?”

“…I don’t care.”

“Can you guys stop flirting?”

   After explaining to their disgruntled, sleepy boss over the phone about the incident, they were allowed to go home. Hoseok was hoping Yoongi had somehow forgotten about his claim that he could rap, but Yoongi turned to him and hastily arranged to meet up with him in two weeks’ time before getting dragged away by a sulky Jungkook, whining about sleep. 

The second Hoseok reached home, he threw himself onto his bed, a mixture of emotions brewing inside his sleep-deprived mind. He was happy that he would get to see Yoongi again, but he still wasn’t sure what type of image Yoongi was expecting from him. What if Yoongi was disappointed in his rap, and by association him as a human being, and never wanted to see him again? Hoseok was lucky enough to even get a chance to impress Yoongi with his non-existent skills, so if he screwed his only shot up...

With his face aching and his knees feeling as if they were on fire, he drifted off into an anxious, restless sleep.


	6. a step forward // taehyung

   Taehyung woke up to the creaking of the small ceiling fan right above Hoseok’s new bed. Streams of bright sunlight spilled across the room through the open window, and a gust of warm wind greeted him as he opened his bleary eyes. Even though it had been a while since Hoseok had moved into a better place, Taehyung still felt odd hanging out at his place, and not having to stare at cracked windows and peeling walls.

   He glanced around the room sleepily, guessing that Hoseok was in the shower, getting ready to go to his morning job. He stretched, feeling his bones crack as he twisted in his sitting position. He sighed as soon as his eyes adjusted to the brightness and saw the room clearly for the first time since last night.

   Piles of paper were strewn across the floor—scribbled, crumpled up, torn. They had spent the entire weekend brainstorming for Hoseok’s rap, and they had barely managed to finish up recording last night, and collapsed on the bed together at 4 am. Hoseok, who didn’t even own a phone, had to rely on Taehyung to record his voice. The thought of producing his own beat or composing a full-fledged song was too daunting with their current lack of equipment.

   At first, he was embarrassed to rap, but Taehyung encouraged him to try no matter how stupid he thought he sounded. He had watched the sun go down and come up, fascinated by the new side of his hyung that he was seeing.

   Hoseok had never been one to talk about his feelings out loud. Were all of his thoughts this dark? Was it just an exaggeration for artistic purposes? Did he truly meant it when he wrote down how alone he felt, wandering the streets alone?

   Taehyung had to resist the urge to ask him about it. He knew he shouldn’t ask such questions, lest he triggered something inside his friend. Though he trusted Hoseok wouldn’t hurt anyone for petty reasons, his past was a touchy subject, to put it lightly. He wasn’t sure he could handle Hoseok if he ever reverted to his… other self.

   He watched his hyung gasp as he finished his last line, and Taehyung clapped enthusiastically. Hoseok looked worn out, but pleased with himself.

   Now Taehyung was awake and wasn’t in his feverish 3-am state of mind, he realized just how unimpressive they were. What were they thinking? Yoongi was held with high regard within the rapping community, due to his producing skills and equally as impressive rapping. Even though he was proud of Hoseok, he realized this might come off as mockery to someone like Yoongi. But he didn’t want Hoseok’s hard work to go to waste.

“Hyung, should I send the audio to Yoongi-hyung?” He called out.

   Hoseok’s voice was muffled, the sound of the shower overpowering his words. “Yeah. Today’s the deadline, anyway. No use overthinking it.”

   Taehyung hesitated, his fingers hovering over the _send_ button. He shook his head, and decided to just press it. Hoseok was right. Either way, they had to send it in today. What was the point of worrying over something if it was too late to change it?

   As soon as he sent the MP3 file, his phone started buzzing in his hands. He frowned as the caller ID popped up. _Jungkook?_ What did he want this early in the morning? Why didn’t he just send a text or something? He never texted Taehyung unless it was absolutely necessary—what possessed him to actually press call?

   He was kind of scared to pick it up. What was he going to hear? Was Jungkook in trouble? Did he get himself into an accident?

“…Hello?”

   Jungkook’s voice sounded louder and more high-pitched through the crackling of the speaker. “Hyung! Did you check Twitter this morning? I couldn’t believe my eyes-- I wasn’t sure if it was actually him, but it was!”

   “Why, what happened?” Taehyung’s heart was starting to beat faster. What on earth was Jungkook on about? Did something important happen and he missed it? 

   “Your dance account! The one where you post Hoseok-hyung’s dance clips! One of the dances went viral last night!”

“Are you sure…?”

“You haven’t checked your inbox? Shouldn’t it be blowing up right now?”

   Taehyung had a habit of turning off all notifications and shutting off his data so he wouldn’t be bothered while focusing on stuff, and he must’ve forgotten to turn it back on after he passed out last night. He ended the call after a quick thanks to Jungkook, and quickly switched everything on.

   Needless to say, his phone almost died as soon as all the messages rolled in. He stared, terrified and in awe as his phone started vibrating uncontrollably in his hands.

   “Who’s chatting up a storm this early in the morning?” Hoseok asked, nudging him with his knee as he wiped himself off with a towel.

Taehyung stared back at him, the video in question playing in his hands.

Hoseok’s eyes widened. He grabbed the phone out of his hands, his face pale. “No way.”

“Hyung, you’re famous.”

“Am I dreaming?”

Taehyung leaned over his shoulder. “There’s so many messages.”

   Amongst the flood of new ones, he immediately honed in on Jungkook’s. His frantic messages filled the screen, and Taehyung found it adorable that he spammed him as soon as he saw the video of Hoseok dancing going viral. Ever since he found out Hoseok danced, he had begged Taehyung to show him his videos, and was even more excited when he found out Taehyung posted them regularly to Twitter for fun. He had newfound respect for Hoseok, and it was even more apparent in his messages.

   “That boy never texts me first, but when it’s about you he spams me?” He said jokingly. Jungkook never called either, but now that he saw the slew of messages that came before the call, he understood why he went to such extremes.

Hoseok’s hands were shaking. “Tae. Am I seeing things right?”

Taehyung froze. “Isn’t that…?”

   Though there were plenty of messages asking for him to appear on survival shows, and smaller companies asking him to audition, one stood out in particular.

   “That’s a big company in Seoul. It’s legit. They have the blue tick.” His own voice sounded breathless to his own ears. Was it a scam? Pressed against his hyung’s back, he could feel Hoseok’s rapid heartbeat against his own.

   “An audition? In 2 weeks?” Hoseok’s voice was a little higher-pitched than usual, but Taehyung understood that he was in shock.

   “2 weeks? Again? Isn’t that too soon?” Taehyung asked, awfully aware that he sounded way too scared despite being a bystander. “What are you going to do? Hyung, you definitely are skilled enough for this, but still…”

“I don’t know. Maybe they’ll make me a backup dancer? I would have to go to Seoul first. I’d have to take a day off.”

   “That’s a bit unrealistic, right?” Taehyung started to tap his feet nervously. “I don’t think you can afford to stay there. And secondly, are you taking a day off for the audition? Don’t you want to practice first? You’re the best dancer I’ve ever met, but a little preparedness isn’t bad—“

   “Taehyung. Calm down.” Hoseok’s steady gaze met his eyes. “This is a good chance. I can make good money, better than I do now. I can make a fresh start in another city.”

   Taehyung felt a little bad for being pessimistic, the little voice in his head saying, what if? What if he didn’t make it? What if he got fired? What if he was accepted, but got cut off? What if he got his dreams crushed?

_What if they find out about what he had done?_

   “I think…” Taehyung shook his head. No. He should tell him to take it slow before they both got too hyper and irrational. Plus, there was no way they’d dig up his past, anyway. The school had spent a great deal of money trying to cover up the assault incident, and Hoseok had kept a relatively low profile when it came to the police. They’re safe… _right?_ “We should tell them you have no way to go to Seoul. If they really want you in, maybe they’ll arrange transportation.”

   Hoseok had to keep retyping the text as he wrote down what he wanted to say as politely as possible. His fingers trembled as he checked the spelling of the most basic words before hitting send. He turned to Taehyung, eyes as wide as saucers. “They replied.”

“That’s quick. Well, I guess the invitation message was still new when we first saw it.”

“They said they can arrange a flight.” Hoseok’s jaw dropped open.

“What about where you’ll stay?”

“…I think you need to see this.”

 _“As per special request from one of our trainess, Park Jimin, who had personally recommended Jung Hoseok-ssi to the board of directors, with the greatest pleasure had offered Jung Hoseok-ssi to stay at his residence for a week.”_ Taehyung’s mouth felt dry. “Is this for real? Isn’t Park Jimin that super famous dancer from Busan?”

   “I can’t even type right now. Say yes. I might never get a chance like this ever again.” Hoseok shakily thrusted the phone back into Taehyung’s hands. He glanced at his hyung. His face was flushed red, and he seemed jittery.

“Okay. The flight is in a week, though. Are you taking a vacation?” Taehyung asked, carefully picking his words.

   Hoseok’s eyes, burning with a passion Taehyung had rarely ever seen in them before, pierced him. “I’m gonna start practicing. Tell the boss I won’t make it today.”

-

“Hoseok-hyung called in sick to practice dance?” Jungkook asked, biting into his sandwich.

Taehyung sighed. “Yeah, I think he got too excited. But it’s good to see him finally putting his all into something.”

   Jungkook was on his break, taking the afternoon shift as he had the Saturday off. He seemed awfully small in the oversized green-colored vest and ugly yellow button-up uniform. His hair curled up at the ends, bouncing every time he munched on his food. Taehyung smiled fondly at him. Ever since they met each other, not once had Taehyung ever thought of him as anything other than _cute._

   Jungkook wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “They arranged a flight for him, right? Then what about where he’s staying? Will he sleep at the dorms?”

   Taehyung took a sip of his cherry coke. “About that, it’s a wild story. Turns out this dancer called Park Jimin showed his video to the BOD, and he said he’ll let Hoseok-hyung stay with him.”

Jungkook choked on his sandwich. “Jimin? As in, Park Jimin from Busan?”

“…Yeah? Is he a friend?”

   “Yeah, we met each other way back then. He transferred from our school to go to a dance school. He must’ve been scouted if he’s in a company already,” Jungkook frowned. “He never told me he’s a trainee now.”

Taehyung reached out and gripped his hand. “He probably has his reasons, right?”

Jungkook nodded slowly. “You’re right. Either way, he’s a good guy. You don’t need to worry about Hoseok-hyung meeting someone shady.”

Taehyung smiled. “That’s nice to hear.”

“Speaking of meetings, did I tell you Yoongi-hyung is coming to visit today?”

   He felt all the blood drain from his face. “ _He is?”_ He squeaked. Suddenly he remembered what happened before they got the life-changing news that morning. The rap. The rap they both forgot they had sent to Yoongi.

   As if right on cue, Yoongi walked into the store, earphones in. He took them out, his expression a bit grim. Taehyung gulped, flashing a nervous smile. He felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face as he raised a hand in greeting. “Hey, hyung!”

Yoongi frowned. “Where’s Hoseok?”’

   Taehyung looked away instinctively. The look on his face reminded him too much of his sister's disappointed face from when she had to bail him out after he got caught vandalising school property a few years back. A lump seemed to have formed in the back of his throat, and he coughed, trying to sound not suspicious. “He, kinda, uh…”

“He’s sick.” Jungkook cut him off. “What’s up?”

 _Nice save_ , Taehyung thought, blessing Jungkook with his whole heart for his quick thinking. Thank God Jungkook understood what he was trying to say and covered up for him.

  “You see, the song he sent me, well the voice recording, to be exact,” Yoongi paused, and sighed. Taehyung tensed. Uh-oh. The news didn’t seem too good. “To put it bluntly, it was pretty bad.”

   Taehyung felt his heart drop, but it wasn’t like he didn’t expect it. He pursed his lips, debating whether or not he should say something to defend Hoseok. He tried to weigh the pros and cons of coming clean, and whether or not he could potentially ruin any chances his hyung might have with Yoongi after he told him the truth.“To be honest, though I shouldn’t tell you this,” He glanced at Jungkook, searching for encouragement in his round eyes. The younger boy stared back blankly. He turned to Yoongi, biting his lips. _Hoseok would kill him if he found out Taehyung straight up exposed him._ “He had never rapped before. He tried learning it in one month.”

Yoongi’s frown deepened. “Then why-“

   “He said he wanted to get to know you, but he was too scared to tell you the truth. He thought having a common ground with you would be a good start.” Taehyung’s voice dropped to a whisper. He remembered their all-nighters. He remembered the look of satisfaction on Hoseok’s face when he finished rapping. “But I can say that he does like rapping. I’ve never seen him so… determined to do something before, something other than dancing. So please, give him a chance. Don’t judge him too harshly.”

   Yoongi hesitated. He was visibly revaluating his judgement, eyebrows knitted together as he bit the inside of his cheeks. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Taehyung knew he must’ve hit a nerve, because Jungkook had once said in passing that Yoongi was a softie deep down. Yoongi ran his fingers through his hair, his voice quieter and much softer than before. “Well, he does have potential. He has a good sense of rhythm, and his flow is pretty unique.”

   Jungkook leaned over, mumbling through his words as he sipped on his banana milk. “Why don’t you teach him how to rap? I think it’ll be useful for him to have an extra skill when he auditions.”

“Audition? What do you mean?” Yoongi narrowed his eyes.

“Hoseok-hyung got a personal recommendation from Jimin-hyung. His flight to Seoul is next week”

“Wait, _what?_ ” He hissed. “You’re saying you want me to teach a complete amateur how to rap in a week?”

“Well, 2 weeks, technically.”

“That’s still pretty impossible-sounding.” A little bitterness crept in his voice, though his face didn’t let slip that he had emotions. His expression was cold and stiff. “And it doesn’t change the fact he lied.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook pleaded, his round eyes widening, lips pouting. “He’s not a bad guy.”

 _Well, that’s a first_ , Taehyung thought. Hoseok must’ve really liked Yoongi if he stayed on his best behaviour around them. He turned to Yoongi, too, giving him his best, cutest look. Yoongi rolled his eyes at them, crossing his arms.

“Fine. But I’m only cutting him some slack because we went through a lot with the robber the other day. I do kinda like him.”

   Taehyung brightened up. It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his chest. “Hyung, you really are the best! Hoseok-hyung was so worried you won’t like his rap. He couldn’t sleep for so long because he couldn’t decide what to show to you.”

   “I mean, I didn’t exactly like the end-result, but I guess it’s pretty good for someone with little experience.” Yoongi grunted, his tone passive, but his fingers fidgeted with the ends of his hair, probably feeling kind of bad that Hoseok had struggled with writing music, and he called it bad.

   “Lunch break is over.” Jungkook reminded them, slipping his apron on. “You two should leave before the boss comes back from his break. Guests aren’t allowed in the break room.”

   They nodded, bidding him farewell. As they stepped out of the store, and Taehyung swung a leg over his bicycle, he turned to Yoongi. “I’ll tell you one more secret, hyung.”

   Yoongi, dressed in his loose clothes and his hair tousled, looked really adorable-- Taehyung was starting to get why Hoseok was so captured by him when he first saw him. The straps of his backpack sliding off his small shoulders made him look a lot younger than he actually was. He stared back at Taehyung expectantly, his lips parted.

Taehyung grinned widely.

“Hoseok-hyung likes you a lot more than you think.”

 

 


	7. clarity // yoongi

   The keys in his hands jingled as he fiddled with the lock to his apartment. It wasn’t anything special—Yoongi worked various jobs just so he could afford his equipment, after all. Living in a big, luxurious space wasn’t a priority since he spent most of his free time cooped up in his studio anyway.

   When Yoongi had left work that day, he was surprised to see Hoseok waiting for him, leaning against his motorbike. He looked intimidating and tough in his worn-out black leather jacket and dark, tousled hair,; Yoongi had felt his heart skip a beat when they made eye-contact, and Hoseok flashed a smile brighter than the sun that was shining down on them.

   Hoseok wasn’t picking him up from work just for fun, though. They had scheduled training sessions every day leading up to the day he would audition for the big company in Seoul. He only had six days before Hoseok would fly out to Seoul for a week. The thought alone was enough to put his stomach in a twist.

   The whole ride there, Yoongi had been very distracted. With his arms around Hoseok’s waist, and pressed tightly against his back, Yoongi could feel just how muscular he really was underneath his loose clothing. He wasn’t sure if his heart was acting weirdly from the adrenaline of having the wind blow through his hair at high speed, or if he was just too affected by just how close their bodies were. What was worse was the fact that Hoseok didn’t seem to notice that he was having a mental breakdown behind his back. Granted, he was busy driving the damn motorcycle, but Yoongi still felt like it was a bit unfair.

   He cursed Taehyung for teasing him the day before. He had gotten way more conscious of Hoseok ever since, to the point where he couldn’t focus on what he was doing.

   He sighed. He wasn’t in high school anymore. Being out of his zone because of a simple crush was childish of him. Still, he wondered if Taehyung was being serious when he said it, or he was just pulling an old man’s leg, because Hoseok never looked too bothered or restless around him. Yoongi was absolutely certain that he must be superhuman if he really did have feelings for Yoongi, because he sure acted very nonchalant around him. It was either that, or Yoongi was very, very dense. His pride refused to consider the latter as an option, though.

   It was an undeniable fact that he had felt his heart race when he first met Hoseok. He had looked oh-so -cool, leaning against the counter and talking casually to Jungkook, despite the horrendous uniform ruining his good looks. They often met and talked whenever Yoongi visited Jungkook at his job, and this has proven to be very bad for his heart. 

   After their encounter with the robber, Yoongi had started to realise that he might be going down a very dangerous rabbit hole. He would sometimes remember the intensity of Hoseok’s eyes from that night, and the way he felt shivers run down his spine when his skin grazed against Hoseok’s when he went to treat his wounds.

Hoseok whistled lowly, nudging him to snap him back to reality. “Hyung, your place is a lot neater than I expected.”

Yoongi gave him a little shove back. ”Of course it is, you brat.” He grunted. “The studio is the door on the left. Get yourself comfortable, I’m getting drinks first.”

Hoseok nodded, obediently marching over to the studio area.

   Yoongi bit his lip as he heard the sound of rustling, a few awed gasps, and the sound of Hoseok snapping his fingers. He heard the familiar beeping of his electronic piano being switched on, and the sound of a few keys being mashed together followed soon after. He had suspected Hoseok didn’t know jack shit about recording and producing, so he knew he had a lot of work to do in their limited time together. His impressed reactions to the smallest things only served to remind Yoongi of how hard this was going to be.

   He sighed, turning back to the kitchen, his nimble hands making two cups of lemon tea, before making his way to the studio.

   Needless to say, their first practice session didn’t go as well as he had hoped. Hoseok had a good sense of rhythm, presumably from his years of being a dancer, but he was just lacking in every other area. Yoongi tried his best to teach him how to arrange his flow to make it sound more pleasant, and to add more variation in his tone, but Hoseok struggled even with his directions guiding him.

Three hours had passed when Hoseok finally slumped back against the couch, groaning. “Ugh, rapping is so hard.”

   “I think you can do it though.” Yoongi said, pursing his lips as he replayed Hoseok’s attempt at his original rap again. “Your rhythm is good. Your flow is getting better, too. I think if you keep going at it, you’ll be good to go.”

   Of course, though he didn’t consider Hoseok to be above average by his standards, Yoongi’s critique was genuine. At first, he had serious doubts that Hoseok could even rap at all, but after a few adjustments and minor tweaks, he realized Hoseok had some serious potential. He just needed to tap into the one thing that was holding him back, and he would pretty much be better than the average idol rapper. He would still be torn to shreds by the underground hip hop community at his current level, but he could survive in the K-pop industry with his skillset.

Hoseok pouted, leaning against the arm of Yoongi’s chair. “You really think so?”

   Yoongi wasn’t sure if he was intentionally being cute, but his heart sure did a little backflip at his display of childishness. “Yeah. I’m never wrong.” Hoseok laughed out loud at his confidence, and Yoongi flushed red. He covered his own face with his hands, shyly defending himself. “Hey, stop laughing!”

Hoseok struggled to keep his laughter down, but he gave a soft smile to Yoongi. “You’re so weird, hyung.”

Yoongi crossed his arms defiantly. “If you’re going to keep teasing me, then I’m gonna stop our lessons.”

“No, don’t,” Hoseok tugged on his arm, the corner of his lips tilting upwards. “Come be my teacher.”

   Yoongi felt his heart flutter a little, but of course, he quickly dismissed it. There was _no way_ he found this younger guy cute. There was no way he was falling for someone he had only known for a few months. There was no way this cheeky guy had Yoongi wrapped around his fingertips.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll allow it.”

   And so, as the days passed by, Yoongi became more and more impressed by how quickly Hoseok was learning to control his flow. He was improving a lot more, and a lot faster than he had anticipated.

   Disregarding his progress with rap, the other thing that had made major improvements was their relationship. After spending so much time together alone, Yoongi had started noticing the many sides of Hoseok. Though he mostly cracked jokes and stayed sunny, sometimes, he would become quiet and his eyebrows would be furrowed; deep in thought. He also wasn’t one to play around during practices; staying serious and listening to Yoongi’s advice intently. It kind of scared Yoongi just how fast he could flip between his personas.

   He also Hoseok absolutely fascinating when he was concentrating on something— with his teeth worrying his lips, his eyes narrowed, his fingers tapping restlessly against any available surface; Yoongi found every part of him attractive. Yoongi was watching him do exactly that as Hoseok double-checked his lyrics as he listened to the beat that Yoongi had composed. Then, Yoongi heard a phone ding.

It couldn’t possibly be _his_ phone, since he always had it on silent. Could it be…?

Yoongi turned to Hoseok, surprised.

   Sure enough, in Hoseok’s hands was a phone that Yoongi had never seen him with prior to that day. Hoseok smiled down at his screen, his fingers tapping away as he typed back a response to the text he got.

“Since when did you have a phone?” Yoongi asked, pulling his headphones off.

   Hoseok turned to him, excitedly showing off his phone. “I got it this morning. Taehyung said I’d be stupid not to have a phone in Seoul, so I saved up to buy one.”

   Yoongi looked away pointedly as he carefully stirred his tea, making sure not to make eye contact. He cleared his throat, carefully choosing his words. “So, are you not going to ask for my number…?”

   Hoseok’s eyes widened, and Yoongi felt himself mentally wince at his own idiocy. What was he thinking, being so direct with his questions?

   Then, he heard Hoseok’s familiar laugh, and he felt the familiar sting of getting attacked by a barrage of slaps and punches. He was used to Jungkook hitting him playfully, so he didn’t mind it too much. “Hyung, you _do_ realize you gave me your number way back then, right?”

“Oh.” Yoongi felt like an idiot. He looked down at his own hands. “You’re right.”

   After his laughter died down, Hoseok was silent for a few moments. Then, he turned to Yoongi, his expression a whole lot more serious than he had ever seen him. Yoongi stared back at him, and it was like there was no one else in the world but them. Time seemed to stop as he met his cool gaze. The sudden shift in the mood made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of Hoseok.

“Hyung,” Hoseok’s voice was softer than usual. “I’m leaving for Seoul tomorrow.”

   Yoongi noticed with a start that the odd tone in his voice was a hint of fear. Yoongi felt his heart drop at his anxious expression, and decided to give his shoulder an awkward pat. “You’ll… be alright. I’ve seen Taehyung’s videos of you, and you’re an amazing dancer. Your rapping has gotten a lot better, too. Have confidence, Hoseok-ah.”

   Hoseok hesitated for a moment, then he said quietly, in a voice so _small_ , so _weak_ , so _vulnerable_ , Yoongi felt a twinge of sadness within him. “I’m scared of being all alone there.”

He did not look at Yoongi when he spoke.

   Yoongi was surprised by his sudden honesty. Hoseok had seemed fairly sure of his own abilities before, and didn’t seem to have any worries about the audition, so Yoongi just assumed he was okay and ready. He should have known that Hoseok would feel intimidated by going to such a large city, all by himself. Maybe the lyrics he had written for the voice recording he had sent him weren’t just for mere aesthetic purposes. He had said he was lonely, scared of the way people looked at him like a monster. Did he mean all of it? Did he truly think of himself so lowly all the time?

   “We’ll be cheering you on.” Yoongi said, dropping his voice. He reached out to hold Hoseok’s hand, and gave it a light squeeze. “Even though we’re far apart, all of us know you can do this. We’ll be with you in spirit.”

   Hoseok smiled a little, but just as quickly as he had brightened up, he suddenly turned sombre again. The grip on Yoongi’s hand tightened. “Yoongi-hyung, I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell you but,” He let out a heavy sigh. “I figured since I’m going to Seoul tomorrow, there’s no use hiding it any longer.”

Yoongi frowned. “If it’s about the voice recording, Taehyung already—“

   Hoseok met his eyes. Yoongi felt the same chill he had felt on the night of the robbery; the familiar feeling of electricity going through his entire body. He could feel his heart beating faster and faster. The way Hoseok looked at him told him he couldn’t be more wrong about his guess. He was scared to hear what Hoseok had to say. Every fibre of his being screamed for him to run away.

Hoseok’s voice sounded husky, maybe due to hours of rapping and loud chattering, but Yoongi was caught off guard.

“I like you.”

Yoongi felt his heart stop.

_…What?_

 

Did he hear him correctly?

   Yoongi swallowed the lump in the back of his throat.  No, surely he meant _as a friend_ , right? After all, Taehyung had always been an affectionate person who constantly expressed his love for his friends. Maybe Hoseok had just picked up his habits. After all, they do hang out together a lot. “Wait—“

   Hoseok must have caught onto his train of thought, because he said in a deadly serious voice, “I mean romantically. I’ve liked you for a while, but I didn’t think I would ever have the balls to confess to you. But honestly, I don’t think I can hold it any longer.”

   Yoongi bit his lip. Being around Hoseok had felt unreal to him. Yoongi felt more energized, happier, and more playful around him. His heart also went crazy whenever Hoseok got a little too close, not that it was an important detail that shouldn’t be overlooked. But Yoongi wasn’t a naïve child anymore. Try as he may deny his own feelings, deep down, he knew what he felt for Hoseok wasn’t something platonic, but he just wasn’t sure if he was ready for a relationship, especially when Hoseok was due to fly away to Seoul the next morning. Not to mention dating someone of the same gender was still considered a taboo. Yoongi didn’t know what to say.

   Hoseok took his other hand, slowly and gently, as if afraid that he would scare him away. “Look, hyung, I know this might come as a shock to you. I know this can ruin our friendship. If you feel weird about it, we can just pretend it never happened, and we can both move on from this.”

Yoongi thought about that, but it left him with an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. He knew he liked Hoseok. He was sure of it, but…

He took a deep breath. “Hoseok, I like you, too. It’s just that I don’t know if I’m ready for a relationship right now.”

   Hoseok seemed a bit down at his reply, but he nodded. “It’s okay. I get what you mean. But, please think about it a bit more, hyung. I’m serious about asking you out. I didn’t think I’d do it today, but I like you too much not to at least ask you out, no matter how slim my chances are.”

 Yoongi felt his heart soar, despite the fact that his mind was actively reminding him to control himself. “I’ll think about it. I promise I’ll have a reply for you when you come back.”

   “It’s late, I still need to pack for my trip.” Hoseok let go of his hands, getting up from his seat. “Hyung, please don’t feel too pressured. Just having you know how I really feel is enough for me.”

“If you were serious about me, then the least I can do is think about this seriously, too.” Yoongi said, giving him a small smile. “Have fun in Seoul.”

   Hoseok slung his bag over his shoulders, and opened the door with his free hand. He turned around, and when he smiled again, Yoongi felt the urge to grab his hands and stop him. He didn’t, of course, pretending to be calm and collected, but he was still very affected by the way the corner of Hoseok’s eyes crinkled when he grinned widely.

Hoseok gave him a playful wink.

“I’ll text you.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and Yoongi groaned, his face flaming red, down to the tip of his roots.

Yoongi had never been so flustered in his entire lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't think we'd reach this point this quickly tbh but i have a lot planned out for this story :)) thanks for reading this far :D
> 
> does it feel too fast-paced? I'm a bit worried if things are moving along too quickly ://


	8. countdown // yoongi

   Clouds of white escaped his lips, the tip of his nose stiff from the cold. With every step they took, the sound of the rolling wheels of suitcases was a constant drone amidst the light chatter of their friends. The glare from his phone screen made him squint as he struggled to look at the time.

_3:41 a.m._

   Just a mere hour ago, a disgruntled Min Yoongi had been dragged out of bed by Jungkook. Jungkook and Taehyung had had a sleepover at Jungkook’s place, and went to wake Yoongi up together, insisting that they accompany Taehyung to the airport to see Hoseok off. At times like these, Yoongi regretted giving Jungkook his spare key. If he wasn't so used to the feeling of Jungkook's hands from years of physical attacks (of affection, Jungkook had insisted), he might have mistaken him for an intruder and punched him right in the face. For better or worse, the younger had an unhealthy habit of barging into his room whenever he pleased, just because he could.

   Yoongi had no desire to even see Hoseok’s face, fearing the awkwardness that was sure to come after last night's events. Despite being a legal adult, Yoongi still felt the same dread he did when he confessed to a girl back in middle school-- the intense somersaults his stomach did, the clammy hands, the pounding heart.

   Except this time, it was a hundred times more nerve-wracking. Except this time, Hoseok had been the one to confess. Except this time, they were both adults, and more importantly, _they were both male_.

   Though Yoongi had long came to terms with his own sexuality, and had casually came out to his closest friends as bi, he knew liking the same gender was still considered taboo, especially because they were living in a small town. The general populous went crazy over their idols doing fan service with each other, but would ostracize anyone who was actually LGBTQ. The reality saddened him, but he never really gave a fuck about what other people thought of him. He only had experience with females, too, so this was all new and slightly scary for him. He had been attracted to some guys before, but most of his crushes-- if you could even call something so fleeting a crush-- had been for their looks, and just another case of his hormones raging for good looking people. This was the first time Yoongi had ever fallen for a guy for his personality. Sure, Hoseok was downright gorgeous, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to his charisma like a moth to a flame.

    Hoseok didn’t seem like he would bring up their conversation from last night anytime soon, and they walked side by side in silence. Either he was equally as nervous, or he was just sleepy. Yoongi was a night owl, so he was used to being awake during ungodly hours, and would often forget normal people didn't function like he did. Hoseok seemed particularly sober, not participating in Taehyung and Jungkook’s bickering as much as he usually would. The mood seemed subdued despite the constant chatter from the two younger ones, and Yoongi suspected it might the sleep deprivation starting to kick in. It wasn't a good look on them-- everyone had bags under their eyes, blinking hard to keep them open, and walked sluggishly across the hall.

   Yoongi sneaked a glance at Hoseok. He was dressed in an oversized sweater and baggy sweatpants; his fluffy hair tucked under a knitted beanie, and his ears poked out, the tips red from the cold air. Yoongi had never seen him look so soft, and utterly huggable.

And hugged, they did.

   Hoseok gave him his goodbyes last.  He had entrusted his suitcase to Jungkook, and with both arms free, snuggled into Yoongi, grabbing any bits of warmth he could. Yoongi hugged him back, and his subconscious noted that they fit perfectly against each other.

   Hoseok’s voice was still raspy from sleep, and Yoongi shivered when his lips brushed against his ear. “I’ll be sure to text you.”

    Yoongi gulped, being the idiot that he was, forgetting that Hoseok could most definitely hear his heartbeat and nervous swallow when he was pressed flat against him. “I’ll be cheering for you.” He murmured. He waited for Hoseok to release his grip on him, and started to have a mild panic when he realized that he made no move to separate from him. They must’ve stood there for a solid ten seconds before Jungkook cleared his throat and practically pried them apart. Taehyung watched them with his arms crossed, an amused expression on his face.

Hoseok muttered a quick, “Oops,”, and took his suitcase from Jungkook’s hands.

   Though they were no longer in each other’s arms, he belatedly noticed that Hoseok had laced their fingers together. Hoseok didn’t seem to care that Jungkook was eyeing their hands with narrowed eyes. To be fair, anyone would be distracted by Taehyung, who was spewing reminders here and there like a worried mother.

   “I’ll be fine, don’t worry so much.” Hoseok said, and despite the clear annoyance in his voice, smiled fondly at Taehyung.

Taehyung pursed his lips. “Hyung, be careful out there.”

   “They’re meeting me, so they’re the ones who should be careful.” Hoseok snickered. “It’d be bad if people got a heart attack after seeing my stunning, flower-like visuals.”

    Yoongi snorted at his stupid joke. Trust him to try to keep the mood light when everyone was feeling moody about his leaving.

   Taehyung nudged Hoseok, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. Eat loads of food. Take a bunch of pictures, okay, hyung?”

   “Yeah, I’ll see you guys next week.” Hoseok waved at all of them, his usual bright smile plastered on. It must’ve been Yoongi’s mind playing tricks on him, but he swore Hoseok’s hand lingered for a moment too long. Not to mention the sensual caressing of Hoseok’s thumb over the veins of his hand. Yoongi was half-convinced this man had the balls to tease him in front of their friends, just to watch him fidget in his pants.

   Despite the minor distractions, Yoongi waved back as he walked away, and when he finally disappeared from sight, Jungkook briskly turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on between the two of you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—“

“Do you think I’m that blind? He was so touchy-feely with you, and you looked like you wanted to ravish him right then and there!”

“He’s got a point. You two have way too much sexual tension.”

“No, we don’t. You two are children, this is just how adults are.”

“Yoongi-hyung, I think we all know you two are being suspicious. This is the most _whipped_ I’ve ever seen you for anyone, and as happy as I am for you, frankly, I’m very disturbed right now. Please get a room.”

“Did something happen?” Taehyung asked, curious.

“I’m not telling you two anything.”

Intense protest erupted immediately. “That’s not fair!”

“Yeah, we’re your friends!”

   Yoongi hummed as he walked away from the two of them, pretending he couldn’t hear their complaints. Well, it wasn’t like he could give them a concrete answer. Though it now seemed obvious how hard Hoseok had been flirting with his oblivious ass, he had just found out that his feelings were mutual. He had a lot of thinking to do before Hoseok came back from his trip to Seoul.

He was mentally counting own the days before Hoseok came back.

****

**_5 days_ **

**Yo, that Jimin guy  is really hot**

**Are all your friends attractive or what?**

   Yoongi rolled his eyes at Hoseok’s texts. Two days had passed since he touched down in Seoul, and met Park Jimin. Ever since then, he had kept his promise to text Yoongi, but most of them had been him gushing over his roommate (or food; he definitely sent a gazillion pictures of food), and Yoongi had mixed feelings about the whole thing.

   First of all, Jimin had been his friend since they met in middle school a few years back. Then Jimin moved to Busan, and Yoongi and Jungkook were separated because of their age gap. They had lost contact with Jimin, who was often too busy to text back anyway. He was one of the top students who juggled dozens of responsibilities, with his martial arts and dancing and excellent academics. To top it all off, he had insanely good looks, charming girls and guys alike. He truly was the Prince Charming of the school.

   Secondly, maybe Yoongi still felt iffy because Hoseok had asked _him_ out. How tactless must he be to go on and on about a cute guy to his own crush?

Yoongi huffed. Sure, he was happy and all that Hoseok was this excited about Seoul, but still—

**Oh, but you’re definitely a lot cuter :)**

   Yoongi flushed red, groaning into his own arm. Hoseok really knew how to play with him, huh? He made Yoongi jealous over his own friend that he hadn’t seen in years, and then he went and reminded him that he still very much liked Yoongi. Needless to say, Yoongi had been distracted the whole day by Hoseok’s stupid but equally as endearing texts.

 **Thanks I guess** He replied simply, despite having a silent mental breakdown over the fact that Hoseok had called him _cute_.

**Gotta go, need to train more**

   Hoseok, despite never having owned a phone before, typed at a speed Yoongi previously thought was unimaginable. His first text had been a cute selfie of him on the plane, and Yoongi had received a barrage of texts ever since.

   Ever since their lessons together had ended, his absence was starting to hit Yoongi harder and harder. He missed seeing Hoseok’s cheerful smile in person, and his stupidly contagious loud laughter. He felt oddly drained without him around. Maybe he had gotten a bit _too_ used to his company after spending so much time together the last week or so.

Though he had a lot he wanted to say to Hoseok, he settled on a simple, _good luck_ , instead.

****

**_2 days_ **

 

   The day of the audition was literally right around the corner, and Taehyung was worried sick for Hoseok. The three of them had gotten together at Jungkook’s workplace to bring him his dinner (Yoongi made the food and brought drinks, but Taehyung had suspiciously only had a spray can in hand and arrived drenched in sweat). The conversation naturally drifted to Hoseok, and Taehyung started complaining about the steady decline in texts from his best friend the closer they got to the big day.

   He was shoving fried chicken in his mouth as he whined about Hoseok this, Hoseok that, and Jungkook just wilfully stared down at his own rice and nodded every once in a while, absent-minded. After all, Taehyung had been complaining about Hoseok’s _lack of awareness,_ as he called it, all day.

   Yoongi, who didn’t have the liberty of checking his phone every 2 minutes while working under constant surveillance from his boss, didn’t really care nor notice the lack of texts.

   He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he swiftly fished it out, knowing it was probably Hoseok. Yoongi didn’t exactly have many acquaintances who texted him every day.

He felt his heart do a slight jump.

   A selca was attached to the text. It was a picture of Hoseok, his hair damp from sweat and his clothes clinging to his body. Of course, Yoongi would’ve enjoyed staring at Hoseok in his beautiful, all-natural glory, if only Jimin wasn’t also in the picture, as perfect as ever. Not to mention the fact that he had an arm around Hoseok, and was smiling fondly at him, and not at the damn camera. What was even the point of taking selfies if they weren’t looking at the camera?

   Ugly jealousy was rearing his head, and Yoongi told himself to calm down before the younger ones noticed.

   Okay, _maybe_ he kinda understood that Jimin was nice to everyone. He did hang around the guy for a few years, and he had been nothing but sweet to anyone and anything. But still, seeing someone be so close to Hoseok rubbed him the wrong way, even if it was his own friend.

Taehyung stared at him knowingly. “Is it Hoseok-hyung? What did he say?”

Upon hearing this, Jungkook seemed to snap back to reality, grinning wickedly.

   Jungkook immediately tried to grab his phone away, but Yoongi dodged, years of experience under his belt when it came to his dongsaeng’s shenanigans. Jungkook smacked his arm, teasing him for his secrecy, but Yoongi just ignored him and did his best to avoid his grabby hands. Thank goodness he did, otherwise they would’ve seen the embarrassingly sweet (read; _cheesy_ ) caption that came along with the photo.

**Even though I have Jimin, I miss you**

****

**_0 days_ **

 

“I passed!”

   Yoongi was immediately engulfed by a hug.

   Hoseok was scheduled for return the day after his audition, and Yoongi was in charge of picking him up at the airport, since their friends all had school, and Jungkook had lectured Taehyung after he proposed the idea of skipping just to see his hyung.

   The second Hoseok had spotted him, he immediately broke into a sprint and threw himself into Yoongi’s arms. They were lucky that not many people were at the airport so early in the morning, and Yoongi allowed himself to melt against Hoseok.

He ran his fingers through Hoseok’s hair, pulling him closer. “I’m so proud of you, I really am.”

   Hoseok pulled away, beaming at him. “I’m so happy right now. I really didn’t think I’d make it, but I did. Hyung, I can’t stop smiling.”

   Yoongi couldn’t focus on his words. Seeing him smile so bright, so pure of bliss, made a strange warmth spread through Yoongi’s heart. He realized with a start that he felt so much happier seeing Hoseok bubbly and excited. All he could think of was how much he wanted to always be around him, getting his firm hugs and gentle hand-holdings, laughing at stupid jokes and being there for each other.

   Yoongi felt at peace around him. It was a weird feeling to have when he was around someone who was mostly loud and playful, but he felt at ease around him. He decided he would not run away from his feelings. He couldn’t imagine living without him around.

_Now or never, right?_

   “Hoseok,” he said, his voice soft and full of endearment. He hated being sappy, but he just couldn’t care; not when he had never felt more sure of something in his entire life. Hoseok hummed to show that he was paying attention, his puppy eyes trained on Yoongi. Yoongi gave him a small smile.

“I like you.”

Hoseok immediately froze, all of his jitteriness gone the instant the words left Yoongi’s mouth. He seemed shocked, and slightly nervous. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am. Don’t make me say it twice-- we’re in public right now.”

   Was it even possible for someone to get even _more_ happy? Yoongi thought he had witnessed Hoseok at his peak, but apparently he might as well had been offered the entire world, because he was practically glowing. “…you’ll go out with me?” He said quietly, sounding uncharacteristically insecure.

 “Yeah. Stop making it such a big deal, I’m too shy for this.” Yoongi said, huffing impatiently.

   Hoseok laughed breathily. “I’m so happy, I could kiss you right now.”

   Yoongi, with his hand holding onto Hoseok’s arm, inhaled sharply, his grip tightening. He leaned in closer, eyes fixated on Hoseok’s lips. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one with the intense urge to make out whenever he saw the other. “I could deal with that.”

Before he knew it, Hoseok leaned in and kissed him.

   It was slow and sweet, but so full of raw emotions that they had left unspoken-- the things they were too scared to say to each other, fearful that words might not be enough to express them. Yoongi kissed him back, liking the way Hoseok had roughly pulled him closer by the waist, and loving the way electricity coursed through him every time their lips met. When they parted, their lips brushing together one last time, Hoseok looked like he was on cloud nine, and Yoongi was sure he must’ve had the same dazed, content look as his boyfriend.

   They had erupted into a fit of small giggles immediately afterwards, intoxicated on euphoria. Yoongi could get drunk on Hoseok and the way he made him feel. It was borderline dangerous, but he welcomed it with open arms.

   As they made their way back home, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel a little hopeful. After all, this day had been nothing but good for the two of them. Nothing was wrong with a little optimism, right? Yoongi hummed quietly as a single wish entered in his mind.

Maybe, just _maybe_ , they can be happy together.

 


	9. wilting cherry // hoseok

_“Is capitalism funny?”_

Yoongi had raised an eyebrow at him, riled up.

   They were on a date, after Yoongi had off-handedly suggested going out to get breakfast together and head for the nearby park afterwards, where all the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. Normally, with both of them preferring to stay at home, the perfect date was sitting on Yoongi's couch, occassionally showing each other stupid things on their phones while eating takeout. But, it wasn't like they were opposed to the idea of trying something new. Outdoor dates were cute, and not only were they both suckers for cute stuff, it was also a special occasion, since they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. 

   Becoming a trainee was both a blessing and a curse. He finally had a clear-cut goal in mind, but he also had to endure irregular work hours, which wasn't ideal considering he was in a long-distance relationship. Hoseok had been busy with training for an upcoming performance, and he was finally given a few off-days to visit his hometown. 

Naturally, he _didn’t_ , and happily took Yoongi up on his offer to crash at his place instead. Yoongi had cleared up his weekend plans to line up with Hoseok’s short vacation, and Hoseok had agreed to go on the sight-seeing trip with Yoongi immediately. 

   Walking through a romantic scenery with the person you like in spring wasn’t something he thought possible for himself prior to meeting Yoongi, but here he was-- excitedly picking out clothes to bring on his four-day trip, carefully slipping the little bit of cash he had saved up into his brand new wallet. On top of his trainee stuff, he, like many others, had taken up a part-time job for some extra cash.

   When Hoseok excitedly told Taehyung about the plan over the phone, his friend had whined, saying he wanted to join them to take pictures at the park and hang out with his two favourite hyungs. Jungkook, who was listening in to their call, noticed the hesitation in Hoseok’s voice and stepped in, promising Taehyung to go with him instead so they could enjoy some time together. He made a mental note to thank Jungkook for his tact later.

   When the day came, Yoongi had dragged him to a café his friend Namjoon had recommended, settling down in a booth seat. With warm drinks cupped in their freezing cold hands, they somehow talked about nothing and everything, all at once-- work, friends, the stupid show they watched. Hoseok loved hearing about his day, no matter how mundane Yoongi insisted they were.

   Yoongi had stopped his dialogue on taking up judo lessons out of nowhere to lean in closer, setting down his cup on the table with a definitive clatter. Hoseok’s breaths were starting to get shallow from the sudden lack of distance, the jam-filled doughnut in his hands forgotten, but Yoongi didn’t seem to care.

   His thin fingers reached out and he swiped his thumb over Hoseok’s lips. The corners of his lips tugged upwards, a look of endearment casted his way. “You’re a messy eater, huh?” Before Hoseok could register what was happening, he licked the blueberry jam off of his fingertips.

   Hoseok gulped. Going on an all-day trip with Yoongi sounded like a terrible idea if he couldn’t control himself.

   Even though Hoseok was restraining himself desperately, Yoongi seemed to have other ideas. Hoseok didn’t think Yoongi would be comfortable with displaying affection in public, but he had casually laced their fingers together as soon as they arrived at the park. Maybe it was because of the crowd, but Yoongi did not seem to care about people seeing two men holding hands so openly.

   He hadn’t had so much fun in a long while, simply hanging out and talking with someone he liked. Having Yoongi pressed against him, laughing and smiling together, was enough to convince Hoseok that he had struck gold. Not seeing him in person for so long had drained him, and hearing him ramble on about his world views in his usual cynical and sarcastic manner made him smile fondly. Yoongi scolded him for looking weirdly pleased with himself.

At times like this, his boyfriend’s looks seemed to be a thinly disguised curse casted specifically to target his sanity.

   Despite Yoongi huffing about social issues, he looked like he belonged in the spring days. With his newly dyed light brown hair and pale skin, he appeared softer than when he had intimidating, stark black hair. He looked breathtakingly ethereal with white and pink petals fluttering down around him, his cheeks a rosy red and lips tinged from his chapstick. Hoseok was having a hard time focusing on the flowers with Yoongi right next to him. All he wanted to do was pluck tiny blooms and arrange them in his pretty, fluffy hair.

   Yoongi knitted his eyebrows, catching on to the fact that he wasn’t quite listening. “What, is there something on my face?”

   Hoseok took a step closer. Yoongi’s froze in place, as if he only just realised the real reason Hoseok kept staring at him. Mere inches apart, Hoseok could make out the golden flecks in his irises; the strong scent of coffee that always seemed to linger; the small hitch of his breath when his hands touched his face.

“Your eyelashes are so long,” He murmured.

“And? What about them?” Yoongi said, his voice quiet, gaze expectant. Despite his snarky comment, it seemed more like a prompt than actual mockery.

“I can’t see your eyes properly.”

“Too bad.”

   Hoseok laughed lightly at his characteristic ridiculous response, and leaned in. Yoongi instinctively closed his eyes. Hoseok could feel Yoongi’s warm breath hitting his own lips as he tilted his head, and the way their lips brushed against each other-- Hoseok was suddenly aware of how Yoongi had placed his hands on his chest, and the adorable, little startled flinch he did when Hoseok’s lip piercing pressed against him.

   They were just about to kiss again, when Mother Nature herself decided to ruin their little moment.

   Yoongi scrunched up his nose, pulling away. “Is it raining or did you spit on my face?”

“Do you think I’m physically capable of spitting on your cheek while I’m kissing you? Of course it’s raining.” Hoseok sighed.

“You’re right. But, is it just me or is the rain getting heavier?”

   He was right. Within a few seconds, the light drizzle had turned into a downpour. If he wasn’t busy trying to run for cover, he would’ve laughed at the way the rain plastered Yoongi’s fringe to his face.

   Even though they had to wait an entire hour for the rain to subside, and seeing all the beautiful blooms meet the ends of their short-lived glory, he didn’t feel an inch of regret having to spend his day at a lousy café. He enjoyed having Yoongi’s company, no matter where or what the situation was.

   But now it was the morning after, and waves of negativity flooded over him. The sinking realization that he was sick hit him like a ton of bricks, and he silently cursed the rain that had undoubtedly caused his sudden ill health. Falling asleep in each other’s embrace had sounded like an amazing idea, and so did staying over at Yoongi’s place, but now he was having second thoughts. With growing despair, he realized Yoongi would see him in his sorry, miserable state the second he woke up.

   Hoseok hated having to stay in bed, and all the cons that came with being sick. He hated the feeling of not being able to move his body how he wants it to, the feeling of not being able to breathe through his nose, the slight chill even though he was drowning underneath three layers of blankets.

   He tried not to make too much noise, because Yoongi was fast asleep beside him, curled up in his arms, small puffs of air warming up Hoseok’s neck with every breath. Great. The two of them were finally able to meet up again after weeks of not seeing each other, but now he was unwell and can’t fully enjoy seeing his cute boyfriend sleeping like a kitten.

   Hoseok had never really gotten sick before. He was in fairly good health most times, not counting the physical injuries he tended to collect from his… _confrontations_. The last instance where he had gotten actually sick was back when he still had his mother. He remembered the bittersweet memory well, since it was one of the days where she was sober for once, and cared for him enough to notice that he was quieter than usual.

   He could still feel her cold hands pressed against his cheek; still see the hint of worry in her weary gaze; still hear the gentle words and promises of a better tomorrow as she tucked him in and fed him warm porridge. It was a nice gesture for her to nurse him back to health for once, and he was almost convinced that she was a good mother.

Too bad she abandoned him a mere month after.

   In the present, the moment he dreaded came far too soon, and Yoongi woke up.

   Yoongi stirred in his arms, groaning as he stretched and peeled an eye open. A lazy smile made its way onto his serene expression, and he shimmied closer into Hoseok. For a moment, he laid still, his head buried in Hoseok’s neck and shoulder, his tousled hair tickling him slightly. Then, Yoongi frowned, looking up to meet his eyes. “Are you okay? You’re heating up.”

   Normally, Yoongi’s deep and rough voice after just waking up would do things to his body. But in his current state, he wasn’t sure if his body was even capable of doing _anything_.

   Yoongi’s fingers reached up to push his hair back, and he pressed their foreheads together. His eyes grew wide, and he immediately sat up. “You’re really hot right now.” He concluded.

“That’s what I aspire to be at all times,” He said weakly.

“Must be from that goddamn rain yesterday,” Yoongi sighed, rummaging through his bedside drawer for a thermometer. “I should’ve checked the weather forecast.”

“Shut up, it’s not your fault.” Hoseok assured him. He knew Yoongi would blame himself, and he felt bad for making _him_ feel bad. “You can’t control the weather. None of us knew it’d rain.”

   Hoseok watched as Yoongi’s expression morphed into a scowl as soon as the thermometer started beeping. “38.7.”

“…Is that bad?”

“Of course it is, you idiot. If we can’t get it lower, we’re getting you to a hospital.”

   Hoseok froze. He knew that the hospital wasn’t exactly the best place to be at, judging from the very few but very bad memories he had of it. Even passing by one would forcefully pull him back to his childhood self, seeing his father connected to a thousand wires after he tried to off himself by slicing his wrists. He shuddered at the thought, remembering the metallic scent of blood mixed in with the sterile, pungent smell of antiseptics. On particularly bad days, he could still make out the sound of the long beeping that had followed, haunting him with the unnatural drone of machinery.

   He decided he’d rather be stuck in a bed than be within a mile of a hospital.

   He immediately shut his complaints down upon cementing his decision, letting Yoongi go to work, obediently accepting the half-empty pack of Tylenol and a glass of warm water. Yoongi’s nimble hands gently placed a wet cloth on his forehead.

“Come cuddle with me. I’m cold.” Hoseok whined, tugging onto his sleeve.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “No, we need to cool you down. That reminds me, get rid of the blankets.”

   So there Hoseok laid in his thin t-shirt on Yoongi’s bed, shivering and breaking into cold sweat. He was sure he looked like a wreck, with his flushed face and messy appearance-- not that Yoongi seemed to care, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “There. Compensation for no cuddling.”

   He was pretty sure he might get a seizure from how cute Yoongi was, so he covered his face with his arm and groaned instead. “Don’t look at me.” He grumbled as he felt Yoongi’s familiar hands against his own. “It’s so embarrassing to have you take care of me.”

“I’m your hyung, it’s only natural.” Yoongi reasoned. Then he ducked his head, smiling shyly. “Plus, taking care of your boyfriend if he’s sick is pretty normal.”

   Hoseok groaned again. Yoongi knew he loved it when he referred to them as boyfriends, and would periodically pull out the boyfriend card whenever he was being difficult. “But I look so pathetic right now.”

   Yoongi brought his hand to his lips and hummed, the warmth spreading to his stiff knuckles. “As if you wouldn’t do the same for me if I’m the one who’s sick.”

   He had a point, so Hoseok kept his mouth shut. Though being sick was the least enjoyable thing on the planet, one of the pros was having Yoongi fuss over him. He was about to dig into the reheated soup Yoongi had brought him, when his phone rang.

Yoongi glared at him. “I’ll get that, so don’t fucking move.”

   As he watched his hyung’s retreating form, he wondered who on Earth would call him in the middle of the day. The kids were stuck at school, after all. Yoongi handed him his phone, saying, “It’s Jimin.”

   “Hey, Hoseok-hyung!” Jimin’s cheerful face filled up the screen. He must have taken a break from his morning gym session, judging from his pushed back, sweat-drenched hair and unsteady breathing. Hoseok watched as his smile vanished. “Wait a minute, why are you still in bed? It’s late already.”

“I’m kinda having a fever right now.”

“ _’Kinda’_ ,” Yoongi grumbled to the side as he got up. “With that temperature I’m surprised you’re still conscious.”

“Where are you going?” Hoseok asked, ignoring the way Jimin leaned forward, intrigued.

   Yoongi grabbed a towel from his drying rack and motioned towards the door. “Shower.” He said simply.

The door clicked shut behind him.

   “Who was that?” Jimin asked, excitedly craning his neck to look around the room, as if it would help him somehow help him break the physical limitations of being on a video call. “Are you staying over someone’s place?”

   Hoseok hesitated. Calling Yoongi ‘a friend’ would feel akin to a betrayal, but calling him his ‘boyfriend’ when he didn’t know if Jimin was homophobic or not was a risky move. Despite the fact that he had noticed how Jimin acted around men, giving them a sly smirk when they stared at him not so secretly, he wasn’t sure if he would still be comfortable around Hoseok if he knew. Skinship amongst men in Korea wasn’t particularly uncommon.

   But in his drug-induced haziness, he failed to process his worries coherently, and the words fell from his mouth before he could stop himself.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

Jimin nodded. “Oh, the guy from your phone background?”

Hoseok paused, raising an eyebrow. “How did you know that?”

   “You do know you keep smiling at your phone, right? I had caught a glimpse of it the other day.” Jimin said teasingly. “Congrats, by the way. I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe you wanted to tell me in your own time.”

“You’re not weirded out by it?”

    “Of course not. Here in Seoul, it’s a lot more common than you think. Plus,” Jimin scoffed. “I’m not too straight myself. You can kind of tell who is and who isn’t, after a while.”

   He thought he would be more shocked by Jimin’s sudden declaration, but he wasn’t. Maybe because everything seemed to make much more sense now that he himself had confirmed Hoseok’s suspicions. “I should’ve told you earlier, then. I’ll introduce you two, but from what I’ve heard from Jungkook, you two know each other.”

Jimin frowned. “I do?”

“Wait, you didn’t notice who he was?”

   “In my defence, I’ve never looked at your phone clearly, so no. It’s called respecting your privacy, unless you’d rather I intrude upon it.”

“I’m dating Min Yoongi.”

   He watched as Jimin’s jaw dropped open. He stumbled over his words. “Yoongi-hyung? You’re dating Min Yoongi? Oh my god, this is the best coincidence ever. When did that happen?”

   There was no possible way Hoseok would ever tell anyone the real truth behind his meeting Yoongi. That secret was only between him and Taehyung to carry to their graves. The most natural lie slipped through his lips. “Oh, I met him at my old part-time job. He came by to visit Jungkook, and things escalated from there.”

   “I’ve been friends with Yoongi-hyung for years now. I have so many stories I can tell you!” Jimin said giddily. Though Hoseok was equally excited to know more about Yoongi, he couldn’t help but think that he could easily be in Yoongi’s shoes right now. A lot of people knew of the infamous incident from his past, even if money had helped stop it from reaching the media.

What would the odds be for the exact same thing to happen to him?

   His train of thought was cut off when Jimin started gushing about that one time Yoongi almost got into trouble for rebelling against the school’s strict hair rules, insisting on growing out his bangs. The disciplinary teacher had gotten really angry that a class president would set a bad example for the other students, but no one could tell Yoongi off, since he was an exemplary student in everything other than attitude.

   He was in the middle of retelling Yoongi’s adventures on ratting out other students when the devil himself re-entered the bedroom in fresh clothes and damp hair, his towel thrown on top of his head. The slight scent of lemongrass followed him. Plopping down beside Hoseok, Yoongi sighed, cringing as he listened to stories of his past. Jimin unapologetically laughed at his embarrassed expression.

But then, Yoongi noticed something he hadn't. 

   He leaned in and squinted, effectively cutting off Jimin’s teasing. “Hey, what happened to your arm?” He asked, his deep voice tinged with concern.

   Hoseok, still slightly out of it, didn't notice the layers of bandages wrapped around Jimin’s forearm, and thought Yoongi had said something random to distract them from making fun of him. But, with a start, he realized that Yoongi wasn’t bluffing.

   Even though Jimin wore his usual dark grey sweater, his excited gestures had caused one of his sleeves to slide down, revealing the white cloth tucked underneath.

   Jimin’s cheerful expression immediately fell as he hurriedly tugged his sleeves over them, visibly flustered. His pretty face betrayed him by turning deep red, his eyes casted downwards. He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, haha. I fell, uh, on the floor, this morning. Scraped my arm.”

   Yoongi frowned. Hoseok could tell from the way he pursed his lips that he didn’t buy Jimin’s little tale. “Are you okay?”

   “Yeah, don’t worry. Happens all the time. You know me, I’m really clumsy when I’m dancing.” Jimin waved a hand dismissively. “You should focus on taking care of Hoseok-hyung, since he seems really sick. Get well soon, hyung. I’ll see you later!” He flashed a very unconvincing smile, and ended the call before either of them could say anything.

   Yoongi clicked his tongue at Jimin’s sudden exit, and gave a low sigh. He turned to Hoseok. “Are you feeling better?”

   Hoseok mustered up a small smile. “Somewhat? Hearing how reckless you were as a teenager cheered me up. Who would’ve thought you’d be a little troublemaker?”

   “If you’d call growing my hair out ‘trouble’, I guess so.” Yoongi snorted, reaching for his hairdryer. “I would’ve caused more problems if I wasn’t so nice.”

   “You sounded like the teacher’s pet-- that one brat who told on everyone.” AKA Hoseok’s worse nightmare back in his school days, but he didn’t bother telling Yoongi that bit.

“I’m the class president. It’s kind of my job.”

   An image of Yoongi, dressed in a baggy uniform, his tie hanging loose from his neck, his hair falling into his eyes and a mischievous smirk on his lips invaded Hoseok’s drowsy thoughts. “Oh God, you’d look so hot, being all controlling and stuff.”

   Yoongi smiled incredulously, scoffing. “You have a thing for authority figures?”

   He could almost hear Yoongi’s voice chiding him; _you kinky fuck--_ from the way his stare darkened for a split second. He swore Yoongi was intentionally dragging his teeth over his bottom lip just to set him off.

   “Well, no. Just you, in a uniform.” He said, gulping, suddenly noticing how incredibly low Yoongi’s t-shirt was—allowing him to catch a glimpse of a sliver of his toned chest. He started to hate the fact that Yoongi was taking Judo lessons.

   “If you weren’t sick right now, I’d be willing to play around, but we can’t. Let’s get your fever down.”

   Hoseok groaned, but letting his boyfriend take care of him wasn't such a horrible alternative. He liked being pampered as much as his boyfriend did.

   But, as Yoongi changed the cloth on his forehead, he couldn’t help but remember Jimin’s panicked expression from before, his cheeks turning as pink as his dyed hair.

   He prayed he was just overthinking it, hoping the cold metal cross pressed against his collarbone would somehow respond and reassure him it was all irrational paranoia. But what was he expecting? A light to suddenly shine from the heavens? A choir of angels? Was it bad that the heavy feeling in his chest won’t go away, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on his amazing, caring boyfriend?

   He couldn’t shake the feeling off, even as he grew drowsier and drowsier from Yoongi’s soothing hand running his fingers through his hair. Though he was on the very edges of slipping into Morpheus' realm, doubt still clouding his mind. After all, nothing ever went right in Hoseok’s life.

Could it be any more different this time around?

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest time I've ever taken to write a chapter. I really struggled with how I can transition into the next arc without it being too sudden and jarring, and as a result I now have six alternate ways this chapter could've went, and eventually settled on this one. I hope you like it :)
> 
> Please enjoy the fluffy moments while they last, because we'll be diving into the serious parts soon :D


	10. faux espoirs // hoseok

There it was again. The same, beautiful haunting melody.

   Hoseok reached a hand out blindly in the darkness, desperately trying to grasp onto something tangible within his mind. He felt as if he had lost control over his own body, floating further and further away from the ground, untethered. He twisted his body mid-air, and felt the sharp crescendo pour through him, controlling him as if he was a puppet on strings.

   Panic burst through him as he realized the darkness wasn’t as empty as he had hoped. Dense smoke stung his eyes; tears forming beneath his shut eyelids. The smell of burning tobacco was filling the room up, forcing its way into him. He choked on air, his lungs constricting from the offensive smoke.  It felt as if someone had shoved large amounts of coal down his throat.

   When his fingers reached up to claw at his dry throat, the slick feeling of nylon greeted him. Confused, he tugged on the ends.

_…fishing lines?_

Hoseok’s breath hitched, terror seizing him. Where was he? What was going on?

   He looked around him. A room had mysteriously materialized out of nowhere, with towering walls covered in intricate wallpapers. Though there were walls, there seemed to be no ceiling nor ground, and an endless abyss of darkness stared right back at him from both ends. He had never seen this room, but strangely, it felt like he had been there before.

   A single stream of light parted the clouds of darkness, and Hoseok’s head snapped upwards.

   A large, weathered face of a woman leered at him through the shadows, a cigarette tucked between her teeth. With a start, Hoseok realized the ends of his strings were wrapped around the woman’s hands, her fingers turning blue. Blood seemed to drip along the strings, seeping from countless paper-thin cuts along her fingertips; every drop reaching Hoseok’s body burning him upon contact.

   He hissed, struggling against his bounds, yet it all seemed to be in vain. What could he do to escape a woman that was ten times his size? The puppeteer’s face contorted, a sinister grin tugging the ends of her lips, and a sinking realization came to him, a moment too slow.

Hoseok froze. He knew this woman.

He squinted through the smoke.

“…mother?”

   The woman’s face fell, hideous fury distorting her features. She slammed her fingers down, and Hoseok could do nothing as he felt himself be pulled up into the air, and hurled into the ground.

   Right before his face hit the cold marble floor, a single thought entered his mind— _since when was there a floor here?—_ and he woke up.

   He lurched forwards in his bed, cold sweat drenching his body. His heart pounded hard against his chest, and it felt as if he might get a heart attack if he wasn’t careful. Hoseok groaned, burying his face into his clammy hands. _What was he doing?_ He wasn’t a child anymore—having such a silly nightmare shouldn’t cause him to feel actual fear.

   Still, he reached a hand under his shirt gingerly, his fingers searching for the familiar inch of raised skin from where his mother had sliced into his side a decade ago. A bitter feeling rose in the back of his throat, almost as suffocating as the smoke that choked him in his dreams.

   He hadn’t dreamt of his mother in years, and he knew exactly what had triggered it, ten years after.

   Exactly one week ago, he had woken up to the sound of Yoongi playing his keyboard, a familiar song echoing throughout the house. Hoseok lazily opened his eyes. He remembered this tune. He had heard it before, the night he saw Yoongi in that abandoned shop.

   He remembered being so taken; so utterly fascinated by the sight of Yoongi’s lithe fingers dancing across the heavy ivory keys of the piano in the little red shop, weaving the most beautiful of melodies—a sound so enchantingly ethereal, yet scarily, full of intensity that he had never seen before. He had the prettiest little smile, playing to his heart’s content, creating his own musical wonderland within his small, confined universe.

But why did it sound so… distorted? _Wrong?_

   He sat still in the empty bed, feeling the cooling pack Yoongi had left on his forehead slide down into his lap. He had immediately snapped awake the moment Yoongi started pounding on his electronic keyboard. It was somewhat mesmerising; the progression of a slow, sweet song to one full of anger and anguish. He had often wondered; for what reason did Yoongi play it so frequently? Did it hold some sort of meaning he didn’t know of? Or was it just a melody that he couldn’t seem to rid of his mind?

   Hoseok couldn’t help but notice how he slammed the keys with unnecessary force; how the music seemed so spiteful and full of hatred; how the sound was rushed, almost as if Yoongi wanted nothing more than to remove it from his system. He was drawn to this mystery, and before he knew it, he found himself at the studio’s doorstep.

   Hoseok waited until the sound of his aggravated playing died down, before he decided to knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply, he swung the door open.

   Almost immediately, he recoiled. The unmistakable scent of stale smoke wafted through the cold air, a stark contrast to the usual vanilla scent the rest of the house had. The putrid smell pierced his nostrils, and he felt sick to the stomach.

   Min Yoongi sat in his swivel chair, back hunched over the piano. In between his fingers was single, lit cigarette, smoke curling from one end.

Hoseok stiffened.

   The sight of the dim crimson from the butt of the cigarette brought back memories he had so desperately tried to repress back to the surface, scathing and as fresh as ever. He inhaled sharply, flashes of broken memories wracking his mind—broken soju bottles on the dirty granite floor; the overwhelming scent of smoke in the air; the pure contempt flickering in the woman’s eyes as she dug a blunt knife into a crying child’s skin.

“Hoseok?”

   He snapped back to reality. Yoongi stared at him, his face full of concern. Hoseok’s eyes flitted towards the half-full cigarette tray on his desk, and he wondered if all this time, Yoongi had been a smoker. Not that he could tell, since his boyfriend always smelt like mint and coffee.

   Hoseok gulped, closing his eyes to try to regain his composure. He knew he could not afford to crack in front of his boyfriend, yet he couldn’t seem to control the tremor rocking his body, nor could he get rid of the lump in the back of his throat.

   Yoongi stood up from his chair. “You look better than last night. That’s good.”

   Hoseok couldn’t say anything. He was getting dizzy from the horrid smell, and he stumbled backwards-- away from the room, away from the man he couldn’t seem to recognize, no matter how hard he blinked and shook his head.

   Yoongi turned around and bent over his desk, and for a split second, Hoseok saw his own mother’s actions reflected in Yoongi’s—the way he put the cigarrete out with a little snap of his wrist, the way he made a small cough to clear his throat, the way he patted his hands against his jeans afterwards. He heard his own breath hitch, and felt his own heart palpitating as irrational fear gripped him.

 _No_. He scolded himself. He was with his lover, not his mother. Getting them mixed up would be a grave mistake.

   But before he could reorganize his thoughts, Yoongi had walked up to him, putting on his best puppy dog eyes and sticking out his bottom lip. “It’s your last day here. Where’s my good morning kiss?” he whined.

   The scent of smoke was even more concentrated now. Before he could stop himself, disgust tugged on the corners of his lips.

    The look of confusion on Yoongi’s face was enough to make him want to throw himself off the veranda. He couldn’t possibly risk ruining the one thing he had worked so hard to attain over something stupid. So _what_ if Yoongi smoked? He was still Hoseok’s boyfriend. It didn’t change anything about their relationship, considering he had been a smoker even before they met. Really, he was overreacting.

   “Sorry, I might still be sick. I don’t want to give you my germs or anything.” Though he tried to jest, the strain in his voice was painfully obvious.

   Yoongi frowned, noticing the difference in his tone. “You sure you’re okay? Is your temperature still high?”

   A concerned hand reached out, and Hoseok felt himself flinch and jerk away, taking a hurried step back with wild eyes, his breathing heavier than he intended it to be. Despite the fact Yoongi’s hand never reached him, he was positive he felt the phantom pain of a slap across his face; the familiar burn of the cigarette being drilled into his cheek; the dull throbbing from where his hair was harshly pulled.

   He felt as if he wasn’t there in the physical sense, watching blankly as Yoongi’s hand withdrew uncertainly, a look of hurt flashing across his pretty face.

    “Sorry,” He murmured hastily, looking away. He couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, guilt chewing through his conscience. Yoongi was just worried about him, but here he was, refusing to be touched, scared his boyfriend might hit him, scared of the fear that had stemmed from one bad memory.

   He thought the awkwardness would die down after they had their lunch together, yet the tension in the air didn’t recede even as they walked into the airport, side by side. Both were careful not to touch the other, occasionally sparing worried glances that neither had caught.

   Yoongi gave him a weak smile. The time to depart had come quicker than they had expected. “I’ll be sure to come to your first performance, Hoseok-ah.” With his tired voice and weary gaze, Hoseok felt a stab of pain through his heart, seeing just how down Yoongi had been from a simple rejection.

   “I’ll call you when I reach home,” He promised. Then, slowly, _carefully,_ as if he was afraid that a single touch could break his boyfriend, fragile as glass in his mind—he reached out to give his hands a squeeze.

   Yoongi’s face lit up, and he threw his arms around Hoseok’s neck. His boyfriend was incredibly child-like in that aspect—he was easily pleased by physical affection. It was a trait Hoseok liked about him, but in that instant, he couldn’t have wished for something to be more different about him.

   Yoongi smiled, showing off his cutest gummy smile, and leaned in. “I’ll miss you.”

   His body reacted before he could even comprehend what was happening. He turned his head to one side, and Yoongi’s kiss ended up on his right cheek.

   Yoongi pulled back, eyes wide with shock and jaw slack. Hoseok stared back, horrified at what he had done. Then, as if he had forced himself to slip a mask on, Yoongi’s frowns smoothened out, and he gave Hoseok a tight smile. “I guess I’ll see you soon. Have a safe flight.”

“Wait, I-“ Hoseok stammered, but Yoongi had turned promptly on his heels and walked away.

   Hoseok sighed. Not only did him discovering Yoongi smoked put a strain on their relationship, it was also affecting his mental state. He couldn’t look at his adorable phone lockscreen—a picture that Jungkook had taken of him and Yoongi curled up together on their couch, fast asleep after one late movie night, bowl of popcorn almost slipping from his hands-- without remembering how Yoongi had smelled exactly like his deadbeat mother, and flashes of dark memories surged forwards, replacing sweet memories of his beloved boyfriend with haunting imagery of a drunk woman beating the living hell out of him.

He couldn’t help but shudder at the thought.

   At the present, however, he was faced with an entirely new problem. A week had gone by without much incident, and Hoseok had quickly readjusted to his trainee life once more. The only exception was the recurring nightmares that had steadily brought ruin to his sleeping schedule ever since he had gotten back from his trip to Yoongi’s place. He would wake up in cold sweat every day without fail, and he wasn’t sure how much longer Jimin would buy his excuses and feigned ignorance.

    From across the room, as he had done the past seven days, Jimin sat up in his bed, frowning at him. “Hoseok-hyung? Are you okay? You look pale.”

   Hoseok cursed himself. He should have learned to control his loudness by now. He ran his fingers shakily through his hair, belatedly noticing how damp it felt against his fingertips. His clothes must have soaked up his sweat, because they felt heavy and cold against his exposed skin. He let himself breathe for a few seconds before answering, because he wasn’t so sure if he was okay himself. “I’m fine. It’s just a nightmare.”

“Again?” Jimin’s frown deepened. “You want to talk about it? You look shaken.”

“It’s fine. It’s…stupid.”

“If it scared you this badly, it must be pretty scary.”

“Look, I just don’t want to talk about it!” He snapped.

   The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them. A hint of fear flashed in Jimin’s eyes, and he knew he should’ve made sure he had his emotions in check before they spoke.

   “Okay, then. Just remember I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.” Jimin said quietly. He retreated his already small figure underneath his blankets once again, tucking his head under his covers.

   Hoseok groaned again, falling back against his pillow. Everything seemed to be going wrong with his life. His conversations with Yoongi had been short and curt ever since he returned to Seoul, and now Jimin was terrified of him. It felt almost like his old life that he had tried so hard to escape—hushed words, tentative touches, and glances riddled with fear. It was almost like life didn’t _want_ him to succeed.

   Even as they went to dance practice that day, something seemed off. Jimin had always had trouble with syncing up to his steps, but today he was especially bad, missing two beats instead of half. His moves did not seem as sharp nor as fluid as usual, and he seemed more sluggish, arousing suspicion within his partner.

   From the corner of his eye, he watched as Jimin missed a step and stumbled, barely managing to find his balance before he could fall face-flat onto the floor. Hoseok stared at him, concerned, his hand extended in case Jimin needed help.

   “Cut!” Their dance instructor said, his tone exasperated. “What’s up with you two today? We’re taking a 15 minute break. Go cool your heads off.”

    Hoseok patted Jimin on the shoulder after the music had been cut off. This was the eleventh time that evening, and their instructor was done with their antics. He had kindly ignored Jimin’s small mistakes, but they were supposed to be the dancers of the trainees. There were only so many mistakes he could do before it got ridiculous.

   “Hey, you okay?” He placed a hand on Jimin’s shoulder. It terrified him how bony Jimin felt underneath his oversized sweater. The first time he met Jimin a few months back, he had been a bit meatier. He had chalked up Jimin’s skinnier look to him losing his baby fat, but the rate he had been losing weight was getting more and more alarming. Maybe it was the reason Jimin’s under eye bags had been getting darker and heavier, and maybe that was the reason he seemed more fatigued and listless as of late.

   Jimin brushed him off, his voice breathy as he bent over to catch his breath. “Don’t worry, hyung.” He had said with a tight smile. “The trainer just added a few more reps to my daily routine, that’s all.”

   Hoseok decided not to push him further. After all, Jimin had come into practice 15 minutes late, full of sweat and wincing with every step he took. He seemed more tired after his workout than usual, so Hoseok figured his excuse made sense.

   He tugged on his sleeves uncomfortably, wiping away the perspiration building up on his forehead. Hoseok always wondered why Jimin never wore anything other than sweaters even when the heat was unbearable, but he figured it was just a fashion preference that he shouldn’t question, considering Jimin never asked _him_ why he had a lip piercing, which wasn’t allowed by the company by any means.

   But now, he wondered if his bandaged arms had something to do with it. Yoongi had pointed them out during their video call, but considering he had refused to share a simple fucking nightmare with Jimin, he thought it might be inappropriate to press him about his injuries.

   Hoseok pulled their instructor aside, and begged him to cut practice short. He reasoned that Jimin was tired and might need a break. Their instructor seemed uncertain, but Hoseok pulled his best aegyo and promised to buy him lunch the next day. He sighed, giving in. “Alright. But just for today.”

   Hoseok had showered and changed out of his gym clothes, and he waited for Jimin by the entrance of their locker room. His phone lit up in his hands, and his heart nearly stopped.

Oh. It was just Yoongi.

_Hey, how was practice? Can’t wait to see you next week._

   Hoseok smiled at the text from his boyfriend. Though he had departed with a sense of oddity, they had been slowly trying to rebuild their casual conversations.

_Practice was fine, we ended early. Can’t wait to see you too :))_

“Texting Yoongi-hyung?”

   Hoseok’s head snapped upwards. Jimin leaned against the doorframe, dressed in a loose white shirt, tight leather pants and a denim jacket. His hair was perfectly styled, and he seemed to have put on a light layer of makeup. He raised an eyebrow at Jimin’s appearance. “Yeah. Where are you headed, looking all fancy?”

   Jimin smiled, but despite the layers of concealer he had put on, the dark circles under his eyes still made him look tired, and albeit sad. “I’m going out for a drink at the bar nearby.”

“Aren’t you underage? You’re the same age as Taehyungie, right?”

   Jimin laughed, a bit embarrassed as he scratched the back of his neck. “About that. I’m actually older than him. I’m repeating a year because I missed a lot of classes last year. You know how it is, trainee life.”

   No, he didn’t. Not only was Hoseok just a middle-school graduate, he had only started training after he had been scouted by Jimin, so he couldn’t quite relate. Despite that, he nodded.

Jimin nudged him. “Wanna join me?”

   Hoseok almost vomited at the prospect of drinking alcohol. He had tried it once, when the curiosity grew an overwhelming amount. He remembered that night well; him and Taehyung lying in his shitty bedroom, a bottle of gin Taehyung had nicked from his father between them. He remembered the burn in his throat; the pain in his temple; the sick feeling in his stomach.

   All he got from that was a painful reminder of his mother’s drinking habit, and a new bond over hatred of alcohol between him and Taehyung.

He shuddered at the memory. “No, thanks. I don’t drink.”

“Suit yourself.”

   He almost wished he _did_ follow Jimin to the bar, because for some reason, he ended up completely shitfaced drunk, despite only being gone for two hours. Hoseok was in the middle of texting Taehyung about his weekly plans when there was a loud bang outside his front door. He had opened it only to find Jimin curled up against the wall.

   When Hoseok poked him tentatively with his feet, he sprang up and immediately pushed past him into their lounge, slurring the words to some random English song Hoseok had never heard of. His eyes were glazed over and his face was flushed red. He clung onto Hoseok, reeking of cheap alcohol, who tried his best to resist the urge to throw him off onto the ground.

   He tried to carry him back to their room, but Jimin just giggled and drew hearts into his shirt, moaning and whining about creepy old dudes checking him out wherever he went.  Jimin tugged on Hoseok’s sleeves and demanded a kiss, jutting out his puffy red lips, and Hoseok finally gave up on moving him when he emptied out his stomach onto the only decent rug they had in the room.

    He sighed, and dumped Jimin onto their couch. His head was getting dizzy, and he wasn’t even the one drinking.

    “Where are you going?” Jimin asked in a raspy voice, pouting at him. His hair was a tangled mess; his barely open eyes were bloodshot; his skin seemed far too pale. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, seeing Jimin unhinged, without a care for the world.

 _If I could stand to be near a drink, I’d be drowning my misery in alcohol every night._ Hoseok realized. After all, he had tried his hardest to run from the world—to find an escape. For many others, drinking was just one way to do that. If he hadn’t seen what cruelty a drunkard was capable of committing for one extra bottle, he might have been only one step away from turning into his own mother. The reality of this revelation made him very, _very_ uncomfortable.

   Hoseok pursed his lips at Jimin’s behaviour, and shrugged him off, throwing him a look of disgust. He couldn’t bear to stay in one room with an alcoholic—his nightmares had been bad enough with the smell of cigarette smoke alone. He didn’t want his week to get any worse. “I’m going on a walk. I need some fresh air.”

   Without waiting for a reply from Jimin, he pulled on his leather jacket, and stepped out into the cold night.

    Hoseok looked up into the starless sky, endlessly glad that the hustle and bustle of the city was finally quieting down, even if only slightly, during the night time. The sea of skyscrapers, luxurious cars and high-end clothing was a bit too much for him, who had only known poverty and the slums since birth. He missed the warm laziness of his hometown—he missed Taehyung’s stupid laugh, he missed Jungkook’s weird sense of humour, he missed Yoongi’s soft kisses and gentle touches. His heart ached for the sense of familiarity he had longed for, but was forced to leave when he was given the chance to fulfil his dreams.

   As he stared into the neon lights reflecting off of the puddles on the concrete ground, listening to the indistinct chatter of the drunkards walking aimlessly out of the bars, he wondered if he truly _had_ found a home in the dark lonely streets of his town that he had rejected all his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. neon lights // yoongi

    It was supposed to be just another lazy day for Yoongi. The constant ticking of the clock turned into a dull drone. _Huh_ , he lazily observed. Funny how the hand never seemed to move an inch away from 8:23 p.m. Being at the job almost felt like he was stuck in a dreamscape, where time and space was fluid yet stuck all the same, the universe utterly incomprehensible.

   Yoongi could feel his eyelids getting heavier and heavier despite his co-worker very pointedly glaring at him from across the room, the casual leaning of his chin against his palm turning into an increasingly more dangerous game to play as time went on. The pen that he was absent-mindedly clicking was making his hand go numb, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was for his shift to end.

   He glanced at the time on his phone. The dumb clock was starting to get on his nerves, and he couldn’t stand to stare at it any longer.

8:29 p.m.

 _Okay_ , he thought. Just _one_ more minute, and he’d be done.

Then, almost as if his finger had a life on its own, he slid his thumb over the unlock button.

_No new messages._

   Yoongi pursed his lips. Hoseok had not replied to his message at all. Granted, he was usually busy with training, so he didn’t exactly have time to chit chat with his boyfriend, plus his first performance was coming up, and that meant more training hours, but _still_. Especially after the small rift that came out of nowhere caused a sudden spike of awkwardness in their relationship, Yoongi felt as if his paranoia was slightly justifiable.

   It wasn’t like he was the type to be bitchy about replying quickly, but Hoseok never failed to answer him in less than 5 hours, at most. Yoongi’s last message was 23 hours ago, asking if he had had his dinner yet. Yes, you can say that he was a _little_ miffed--

“Yoongi-ssi, you can go home now.”

   He almost jumped from his seat, his chair clattering against the floor. He hastily said goodbye to his boss and co-worker after leaving the changing room, his hands tucked into his pockets and his jacket zipped all the way up.

   It was just in time for Jungkook’s break at his part time job, the one that Yoongi still didn’t know why he took up, so he decided he might as well pay him a visit. With the extra chicken he had bought in one hand and his phone in the other, he pushed his way into the convenience store.

   “Hyung!”

   From behind the counter, Taehyung waved at him enthusiastically.

    “You’re here already? Wait a second,” Yoongi paused, setting down the chicken on the counter. “Since when did you work here?”

   “The boss asked me to fill in today as a favour. They had an empty slot, and I was gonna hang out here anyway. Might as well get paid.” Taehyung smiled, proudly showing off his (ugly) vest. Not that the ugliness mattered, since Taehyung could pull off absolutely anything with his looks.

“Where’s Jungkook? I brought chicken for you two.”

“He’s in the back.”

As if on cue, Jungkook burst through the door, his phone in his hand.

Yoongi turned. “I brought chicken.”

“Nevermind that. Did you check twitter?” Jungkook was paler than usual, all the blood drained from his face.

“No, what’s up?”

“Has Hoseok-hyung contacted any of you?”

   The urgency in his voice made Yoongi realize how serious the situation actually was. Jungkook was not an easily rattled guy. “Jungkook? What’s wrong?”

   Wordlessly, he showed his phone to the two of them. Yoongi squinted. It was a photo of a guy leaning against a streetlight in the middle of the night, a cigarette in his mouth; puffs of smoke rising up into the night sky. At first, Yoongi didn’t quite understand what the big deal was. Then, Jungkook scrolled downwards.

   There were thousands of comments, retweets, and reposts.

_I can’t believe he’s getting into a scandal this early…._

_Right? He hasn’t even made his debut!!_

_Who is stupid enough to smoke in public like this in front of your own company? lol_

   “They think the guy is Hoseok-hyung.” Jungkook said, the panic in his voice clear. “Everyone is sending hate and even death threats towards him. This could seriously ruin his career, and his performance is coming up, too. What’s he going to do now?”

   Taehyung frowned. “But that’s not Hoseok-hyung.”

   “What do you mean? How can you be so sure?” Jungkook asked, confused.

   “Because Hoseok-hyung doesn’t smoke or drink. He told me he hates people who does that, so how can he do it himself?” he said matter-o-factly.

   Yoongi froze. Did he hear what Taehyung had said correctly?

   Jungkook didn’t seem to notice his internal struggle, and forged on. “What if he was trying it out or something? We don’t know that for sure.”

   Taehyung shook his head. “That’s impossible. Not since…his mother.”

   There seemed to be a much deeper story there, but he didn’t elaborate, and none of them wanted to ask, especially after seeing the grim look on Taehyung’s face. He seemed sure of Hoseok’s disapproval towards smoking and drinking, and Yoongi was starting to suspect it might have been the reason why Hoseok was so stand-offish towards him ever since that day he saw Yoongi smoke.

   He swallowed harshly. He didn’t have an addiction problem or anything, he just smoked from time to time, sometimes even only once or twice a week. _Surely_ , that was alright?

   But, seeing the expression on Taehyung’s face, he was starting to worry if Hoseok might just break up with him because of his habit. He didn’t know how intense and how deep Hoseok’s hatred for smoking and drinking ran, and he didn’t dare to ask.

   “Come to think of it,” Jungkook pinched his screen and zoomed in. “Isn’t that Jimin-hyung?”

   Yoongi took the phone from his hands. Though the guy had his hood pulled up, Yoongi could see a hint of light-coloured hair peeking out from under the dark cloth. He also seemed well-built, and though Hoseok was toned and muscular, he was still more on the thin side. “It looks more like Jimin than Hoseok, that’s for sure.”

    “Why didn’t Hoseok-hyung just come out and say it isn’t him? Getting all these death threats is dumb and he doesn’t deserve it.” Taehyung asked, his tone tinged with sadness.

   “Their company probably told him not to say anything. Isn’t that how it usually goes?”

   After Jungkook had spoken, his words hung in the air. A heavy, uncomfortable silence followed as they stared at the phone, not a single person daring to move a muscle. Yoongi grew increasingly more aware of their expectant gazes turning to him, their hyung. He was the eldest, he was supposed to know what to do. Plus, he was Hoseok’s boyfriend. But he was just Min Yoongi. In that moment, he felt just as helpless as they were, waiting for news to come.

   “Is he still not replying?” Jungkook said, breaking the silence by nudging Taehyung. “You should try it. You’re his best friend, after all. He might just pick up if it’s you.”

   It felt like something had pricked Yoongi’s heart. Would Hoseok really ignore his own boyfriend, but pick up when his friend called? It was a petty complaint, given the current situation, so he kept his mouth shut as Taehyung called Hoseok.

On the third ring, Hoseok picked up.

   “Taehyungie?”

   “Hyung! Are you okay? We saw what was going on on Twitter.” Taehyung said nervously. “It’s not you, right? I know you don’t smoke, so it’s horrible that this happened to you.”’

   “I’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me.”

   “What about Jimin, then? Can we speak to him? We figured it was him in the picture.”

   “Jimin…isn’t here right now.”

   The three of them shared a startled look. Jungkook fidgeted restlessly with his vest, shifting his weight subconsciously whilst his fingers drummed against the countertop. Taehyung gulped. “What do you mean?”

   “He got called to the office for damage control. They said something about releasing a statement. I don’t know, that’s all I heard.” Hoseok sighed. He sounded weak and exhausted. “Look, I’m as worried as you are. He’s been gone for a while. I’m really tired right now, so I’m going to hang up.”

   “Yoongi-hyung is here, too. Don’t you want to talk to him?”

   There was a pause. Yoongi tried not to show how anxious he was, biting into the inside of his cheek so hard, the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He ignored the unpleasant taste, focusing on his boyfriend’s voice instead.

   “…no. I just want to sleep right now.”

   Taehyung glanced at Yoongi, an apologetic look on his face. “Okay. Rest up, hyung. Good night, I love you.”

   “Love you, too.”

   His worst fear had come true. Hoseok really _was_ avoiding him. A bitter feeling rose in the back of his throat, and there was a dull pain in his chest. He cleared his throat, trying to blink away the tears he didn’t realize had formed. He wasn’t an emotional person, but he had had a long day, and Hoseok had been distant for a while, apparently because of him. Suddenly, the prospect of breaking up seemed much more real now.

   Taehyung gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Don’t think too deeply into it, hyung. He said he was just tired.”

   “You’re right. If he ever hurt you, I won’t hesitate to punch his teeth out. So, don’t worry.”

    “I’m not worried. And please don’t punch my boyfriend’s teeth out. That’s violence, and I don’t want to see you do anything of that sort for my sake.” Yoongi sniffled. He decided to avert their attention elsewhere, lest they notice just how much Hoseok’s dismissal had affected him. “I’m worried about Jimin, too. Do you think he’ll get fired?”

   “He was personally scouted, and he’s a valuable trainee. His identity wasn’t revealed, too. He might just get a warning.”

_Hopefully._

   The words were left unsaid, but a look at one another’s faces implied they all had thought of the same thing. Just because Hoseok wasn’t the perpetrator, didn’t mean it was okay on Jimin’s end, either. Jimin getting into trouble wasn’t any better than Hoseok getting into trouble; he was also their friend.

   “Let’s just wait for confirmation from Hoseok, then. There’s no point wallowing in this when we can’t do anything about it.” Yoongi said. Seeing the worried look on his dongsaengs’ faces made his heart twist, even if he wasn’t responsible for it.

   They nodded. “All we can do is support them at their performance later. It’s just five days more.”

 

   And those five days passed by quickly.

   Apart from a vague statement from their company clarifying it was not Hoseok, but another trainee who had appropriate disciplinary action taken against them, the incident disappeared from the public eye as quickly as it had surfaced. Hoseok assured them through a text that the “disciplinary action” they had taken was just a light warning and a short suspension, and was nothing to worry about.

   The day of the long-awaited performance had finally come, and Yoongi’s nerves were frayed as he entered the venue with Jungkook and Taehyung, rowdy as ever as they joked around with one another. He had dressed lightly as Hoseok had suggested, considering it was in a small venue, and it would be packed with people clamouring to see the talented trainees; just another advantage of coming from a big company.

   Yoongi hated crowds. It felt suffocating to be trapped between so many people. Who in their right minds would enjoy feeling like a pack of canned tuna? Everyone was sweaty, pressed against one another, and you can feel people breathing down your neck. The only reason he bothered to come was to support his boyfriend, but seeing the room jam-packed to the brim filled him with anxiety.

   He tried to steady his breathing. He should stop himself from being distressed, or he would start hyperventilating, which wasn’t exactly something any of them wanted to happen on Hoseok’s sort of debut night. He distracted himself by listening in to Jungkook and Taehyung’s conversation, which wasn’t hard considering they were shouting over the loud music.

   “Do you think they’ll be singing?” Taehyung asked excitedly.

   Jungkook squinted at the schedule he had received at the entryway. “It just says here it’s a performance from a fresh new duo, a sneak peek at the new trainees—Jung Hoseok and Park Jimin. They got in for their dance, though, so it might just be that.”

   “What if Hoseok-hyung raps tonight? Won’t that be so cool?” Taehyung smiled giddily at Yoongi. “I can’t wait to see how much he improved. I haven’t heard him after your training period.”

   Yoongi didn’t bother to answer, and simply nodded in agreement. He too, had realized he had never heard Hoseok rap ever since he had gotten into the company. He had heard him sing when they all went to karaoke together, so he knew he could carry a tune, so there could be a possibility that he was reassigned to a singing role.

   The small room turned dark, and excited murmurs rose within the crowd as all eyes went to the stage.

   After a few seconds of silence, the whole room was illuminated by bright flashes of light.

   Neon red and purple strobed all around them, turning the world into a surreal mess of melted, eye-searing colours. The crowd cheers were deafening as two silhouettes appeared, their slim bodylines highlighted by the saturated hues of the stage lights before them. Deafening music played, and the lights moved with the dancers.

   Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat as the men moved the front. It was as if the world had stopped around him-- despite his ear drums almost breaking a second ago; despite still being pushed around by hyped up teenagers.

   Hoseok looked better than ever. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen him in person in a while, or maybe it was because his stylist had done a really good job, but regardless, Yoongi felt a sense of awe as he stared up at the man he called his boyfriend. He figured it was most likely both, because he didn’t remember Hoseok looking like the human embodiment of lust—his newly-dyed purple hair fell into his eyes; grey eyes so captivating, so piercing, accentuated by smokey shadows. His facial features were perfectly chiselled with contour, and his figure was enhanced by the harness his stylist had wrapped around his tiny waist.

   Yoongi couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He had never seen Hoseok dance before, and it was starting to make sense why he was scouted by such a large company. His body moved with a certain fluidity and sharpness Yoongi had never seen mastered so artfully by any other dancer, and he had an electrifying air of charisma surrounding him as he commanded the stage with his powerful presence.

   It was almost like seeing an entirely new side of Hoseok; a side that sparked terror within him at how hypnotizing Hoseok could be, if he just chose to.

   It was hard to believe this Hoseok, the man dancing so strongly on stage, was the same Hoseok that nuzzled into him while they watched movies on the couch together, the same Hoseok that showered him in tiny kisses out of pure affection, the same Hoseok that laughed so purely at the shitty jokes the younger ones made.

   Maybe it was his mind playing games on him, but Hoseok’s eyes seemed to stare right into him, as if he knew just how much power he had over everyone in the room, as if he knew just how much his dance was affecting Yoongi’s body. The corners of his lips tugged into a smirk, and he trailed his tongue over his bottom lip, painted an alluring red. His lip piercing glinted as it caught the light, and Yoongi felt his heart skip a beat.

   His eyes followed Hoseok’s hand as it trailed down his body, and Yoongi knew it was part of the choreography, because Jimin was doing it too, but it seemed almost like a mockery to Yoongi; as if taunting him with the fact that he couldn’t touch Hoseok; as if inviting him to devour him the second he stepped off stage.

   Yoongi almost forgot Jimin was on stage, too, until he realized he had been singing all this time, and it was Hoseok’s turn. Hoseok’s fingers curled around his microphone, and he grinned, as if to say, _keep your eyes on me._

   “He’s improved so much,” he heard Taehyung gasp beside him.

   Yoongi jumped in his spot, having completely forgotten that he had company. Yeah, he had shit attention span when he was busy staring at Hoseok. He couldn’t help himself. Sue him, he was whipped for his boyfriend and it wasn’t something he could stop just like that.

   The performance ended after what felt like the shortest 5 minutes of his life. When the lights came back on he struggled to adjust, and it felt like he had accidentally glitched into a parallel universe.

   Hoseok and Jimin did a short introductory speech and thanked everyone for coming, and the audience roared their approval. Who knew the combined voices of shrieking teenage girls could be so headache-inducing?

   The moment they stepped off the stage, it was as if the life had been sucked out of the room. Maybe Yoongi was just being his dramatic self, but it felt emptier and colder without them.

   “Wasn’t that just amazing?” Taehyung said, in awe.

   “Yeah, both of them did great. What do you think, hyung?” Jungkook asked, smiling from ear to ear.

   Yoongi had to stop to think for a moment as his brain buffered. All he could think about was Hoseok, and all he remembered was Hoseok. He hadn’t bothered to pay attention to Jimin at all, but judging from the crowd’s cheers, he knew they were had both been equally amazing. He struggled to form a coherent sentence. “It was, um, great.”

   “You weren’t paying attention at all, were you?” Jungkook snorted as he pushed open the door to the backstage area, flashing the guest pass Hoseok had given them to the guard.   “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at him? Make sure you don’t jump him when we’re backstage.”

   Yoongi huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “Of course he looks incredibly sexy with that lip piercing, but I’m not a tactless guy.”

   They had to wait a few minutes while the performers talked to their managers and took commemorative photos together, and while they stood patiently in the hall, Jungkook sneakily sent him the pictures he had taken of the performance. Professional cameras were not allowed in the venue, but he had managed to take surprisingly high-quality shots with just his phone.

   “For memory’s sake,” Jungkook had texted. Yoongi knew the boy was just teasing him, but he appreciated the pictures, because he certainly had forgotten to take some while he was busy ogling.

   Quietly, he made one of the clearer shots of Hoseok into his lockscreen. Though he liked his old one (a shot of Hoseok standing in the middle of cherry blossoms from their date in the park), he couldn’t exactly deny that he found the wilder side of Hoseok attractive—the heavy eye makeup, the tight clothes, the smug grin.

   Maybe he still had adrenaline pumping through him from the intense performance he saw, but when Hoseok stepped into the hallway, Yoongi had to resist the physical urge to just slam him against the wall and start making out with him. The image of his boyfriend, dripping with sweat and gasping for air after dancing was burned into his mind, and it was unhealthy for Yoongi, as an adult man in a long-distance relationship.

   Hoseok made eye contact with him, and his eyes darkened, hunger burning fiercely in them. He turned to Yoongi, and his steps quickened, his hands already reaching out to touch him.

“Ahem.”

The two of them looked at Jungkook, startled.

   The youngest raised his eyebrow, an annoyed expression on his face. In an exasperated tone, he elaborated. “We’re in public.”

   Hoseok blinked. Then, slowly, he morphed back into his usual cheerful persona. “Oh. You’re right, sorry.”

   Though it seemed as if that was the end of that, he snaked an arm around Yoongi’s waist, pulling him closer to him in an unnecessary show of possessiveness. Taehyung watched them with an amused expression.

   Yoongi took the opportunity to shyly press the bouquet of flowers they had bought earlier into his hands, and Hoseok brightened up, staring at it as if Yoongi had given him a thousand glittering diamonds. Taehyung, forever a wad of cheese, had suggested they bought him flowers based on his birth month, and insisted on spending over an hour picking out violets and primroses at the florist. They had went along with his antics, just because Taehyung was smiling so brightly and happily at the prospect of picking out flowers for his hyung.

   Of course, it was also because everyone had a soft spot for Taehyung, but he refused to admit that out loud. Nobody could say no to his begging eyes and adorable pout, after all, not even Yoongi.

   “Thanks, these are beautiful.” Hoseok pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead, and Yoongi felt his face heat up.

“I helped pick them out.” Taehyung piped up happily.

“Me, too.” Jungkook chimed in.

   Hoseok laughed at their sudden competitiveness, and offered them his thanks. Then, he turned back to Yoongi, leaning down to murmur in his ear. Usually, their height difference wasn’t that drastic, but that night, he wore sleek leather boots with heels, and Yoongi felt incredibly small next to him.

   Up close, he could see a spot on Hoseok’s right cheek where his foundation had smeared off. His makeup seemed much more dramatic off-stage, and Yoongi wondered if Hoseok would be willing to start learning how to do his own eyeshadow, because something about that smokey eye turned him into an object of pure desire.

   “Have I told you I missed you?”

   His voice, deep and seductive, made Yoongi weak in the knees.

   “We heard that.” Taehyung called out.

   “So what?” Hoseok replied without missing a beat, his tone playful.

   The mood was light, but Yoongi had other things he wanted to talk about with Hoseok. Very rarely do they get to meet face-to-face, and now that Hoseok was in front of him, he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

   “Hoseok-ah, there’s something we need to talk about.” He said softly.

   He looked him in the eyes. He had missed Hoseok, much more than he was willing to admit, and he hated the distance that had grown between them after that one day where things had gone wrong. It wasn’t easy, of course, but he was willing to do anything for the person he loved.

He took a deep breath.

   “I need you to know I stopped smoking. I’m sorry I didn’t make sure you were comfortable with it or not. It took me a while to figure out, but once I knew, I quit.” Yoongi said quietly, holding onto Hoseok’s hand to pull him down to his level. “I’m hoping we can just forget that day happened. I just wanted to tell you in person.”

   Hoseok’s eyes widened. Then he looked away, his expression pained. He laughed, a bitter chuckle full of remorse. “It’s not your fault. To be honest, I’m sorry I didn’t just talk to you about it. I knew it was childish of me to just…run away.”

   A warm feeling of relief washed over Yoongi. He smiled, and intertwined their hands. He was glad they talked about it instead of pretending the issue didn’t exist, and letting the gap between them grow bigger. They had solved the problem quickly, and it made Yoongi hopeful that perhaps, this relationship will be a serious one that will last a while.

   Taehyung and Jungkook stared at them, speechless and confused. They, of course, had no idea that the two of them had that sort of tension between them, and the matter had been resolved before anyone found out.

   Just as Hoseok leaned down to give him a reconciliation kiss, just as Jungkook was about to chide them once again, there was a small, barely audible click behind him.

Hoseok’s entire body tensed up.

   He snapped to attention, his eyes flitting upwards and above Yoongi. Pressed up against him, Yoongi could feel his heart rate picking up, and see the dots of perspiration against his jaw; the alarm in his gaze. He furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

   “Nothing,” He said, replying far too quickly. He glanced restlessly around the hallway, stepping away from Yoongi. “I just remembered something. I need to go now.”

   He turned to leave, but Taehyung caught his arm before he could escape. “Hey, you need to tell us what’s going on. You can’t just leave after we’ve come so far to see you.” He said firmly. Rarely did Yoongi see Taehyung be so demanding, but he seemed more concerned than angry.

   Yoongi didn’t understand what Hoseok could have possibly seen, or what he had heard, but he could tell that Hoseok was absolutely terrified. He could practically see the waves of fear rolling off of him; he knew well what anxiety looked like, and in that moment, Hoseok wore it like a crown. Yoongi had never seen him so jittery before-- something was off.

   “Please, I _have_ to go. This is important.” Hoseok said, the desperation in his eyes clear. Worry made the lines on his face deepen, and Taehyung let go with a sigh, realizing that there was no stopping Hoseok once he had made up his mind.

   Hoseok flashed them a quick grin, and burst into a sprint down the hall. “Sorry, I’ll text you all tomorrow or something. Thanks for coming!” He called out, waving an arm in the air.

   Hoseok left without a second thought, and the three of them huddled together in stunned silence, staring at his retreating back, a million questions running through their heads.

   “Why do you think he was in such a rush?” Jungkook asked quietly, bewildered.

   “No idea.” Taehyung replied, his voice equally hushed.

   Yoongi stood quietly between the two of them, watching his boyfriend hurriedly disappear into a room, and he was left to wonder what had shaken him up so much. Seemingly out of nowhere, a feeling of dread washed over him; twisting his stomach into knots and making his skin crawl. He felt an odd sense of discomfort, and the nagging voice in the back of his mind wouldn't go away. Suspicion nipped at his conciousness, yet he couldn't quite figure out what was setting his senses off.

   Somehow, he just _knew_ , that something was very, very wrong.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I haven't updated for a while, I just came back from a vacation trip. I wrote 2 extra long chapters to make up for it so i hope you like it :D
> 
> if you like my darker works, i wrote a vmin fanfic called dissonance, and i'd really appreciate it if you'd check it out! It's about fate, which I thought was fitting since vmin has a reputation for being soulmates within the fandom :))
> 
> but if you prefer fluff, i have a namkook fanfic where jungkook is a barista, if you're interested (title is caffeinated)


	12. shadow // hoseok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's just pretend I didn't not upload for a whole month oops
> 
> TW; self-harm. (This whole story is pretty dark from the beginning, not sure why you'd read it if you can get triggered tho)

 

   Hoseok bolted down the hallway, hastily apologizing to the staff he almost crashed into. Discomfort and worry had started brewing the moment him and Jimin had stepped off the stage, and he didn’t know how right he had been about his concerns.

   Jimin had stumbled off somewhere after the commemorative photo, disappearing from the crowd. Hoseok wouldn’t have thought much of it, if it wasn’t for the fact he saw Jimin’s smile immediately melt off his face the moment he thought no one was watching him. When Hoseok confronted him about it, he gave Hoseok a strained smile. “Hyung, I’m alright, really. I’m just overwhelmed after performing.”

He should’ve known better. After all, Jimin was great when it came to lying.

   Hoseok wasn’t as dense or oblivious as he seemed—he saw how Jimin’s face had scrunched up when he patted his shoulder; flinching whilst adjusting his belt; gasping quietly to himself when he bent over to tie his shoelaces. Considering the fact that Hoseok saw him secretly throw out some pain relief patches on the way there, he must’ve been in pain the whole time.

   His suspicions only intensified when he saw Jimin out of the corner of his eyes whilst talking to Yoongi after the performance; dragging his legs behind himself as he shoved past their staffs, his face twisted in agony, and the door to their break room clicked shut behind him.

   An uneasy feeling rose within Hoseok. Though he finally had his boyfriend and close friends in front of him after so many weeks of not seeing each other, his instincts screamed at him to check up on his partner. He gave them a quick apology, and broke into a run.

   As he turned the corner, he heard a dull thud, so quiet, he might have missed it. His heart grew heavy as he picked up his pace and forced himself to run faster. He had to get there, _quick_.

He slammed the door open.

Hoseok froze.

   There, on the carpeted floor, lay a man dressed in tight black pants and loose button-up, his glittering jacket on the ground beside him. His face was pale, and he struggled to breathe; his frown deepening by the second.

   Hoseok fell to his knees beside him, his hands gripping his shoulders. “Jimin? Hey, are you okay?!” Jimin was limp in his arms, and Hoseok cursed. His body felt cold against his touch despite all the sweat dampening his clothes. He knew Jimin hadn’t felt well, but he didn’t expect him to faint without warning. He felt so incredibly helpless; his hands unsure of what to do. He was always the one injured; he had never had to deal with someone else’s ailments before.

   He bit his lip as he fished out his phone from his back-pocket and punched in their manager’s number. He was glad that the manager was on her way, because he couldn’t trust himself with managing an unconscious person. He could only do as he was told—loosen up any tight clothes, take off his shoes, fan him with something.

   He felt a lot calmer now that he knew help was coming for his friend. He decided to focus on the miscellaneous tasks assigned to him. Just as he was rolling up Jimin’s sleeves, he noticed the dark blue discolouration running across his pale forearm. 

Hoseok frowned. He had been in enough fights to know what a bruise looked like. He was somewhat terrified of what else he could find if he chose to search Jimin more.

Hoseok turned his arm over, and his breath hitched.

Were those… _rope marks?_

   A thousand questions raced through his mind. _What did they mean? Where did he get them? Why--_

   The noise of heels clicking against the floor startled him. Instinctively, though he wasn’t sure why, he rolled Jimin’s sleeves back down and set his arm on the floor beside him. Their manager burst into the room, her hair messy and eyes wild. She sat down next to Hoseok and cupped Jimin’s face in her perfectly a manicured hands. “Hey, Jimin-ssi, can you hear me?”

   Jimin groaned in response. His eyelids fluttered open, and he squinted at them, confusion on his face. “What- what happened?” He said weakly as he sat up.

   “You fainted.” She handed him a bottle of water, her lip pursed tight. “Are you alright? Should I go call an ambulance?”

   Jimin seemed flustered at her suggestion, immediately sitting up straight and becoming more alert. “No, no! Don’t do that. I’m fine.”

   Though Jimin managed to convince their manager to get back to the company dinner after almost ten minutes of stern lecturing about his health and his importance as a trainee, Hoseok insisted on staying with him. “My partner just fainted. If I go out there and enjoy myself, what kind of person does that make me?”

   Jimin seemed surprised and a little touched. “Hyung, I’m fine. I was just a bit, you know, sick.”

   Hoseok grabbed his wrist. “Jimin, what’s going on with you? You’ve been sick for a while now, and you have all of these bruises—“

   Jimin wheeled around on him, his pupils blown out, terrified. His hand immediately shot up and clasped itself over his neck, a spot Hoseok failed to notice before he drew attention to it. His shirt rode up, revealing his toned stomach, and yet Hoseok couldn’t help but notice the black and blue decorating his hips. His breath came in heavy gasps, and he seemed horrified that Hoseok called him out on it. “How did you—“

Seeing the pure terror reflected in his eyes, Hoseok felt bad for pointing them out.

   Jimin struggled to regain his composure. He took a deep breath, and gave him a firm look. “I- it’s nothing, really. Just bumped a little too much into the door recently.” He gave a nervous laughter.

   Hoseok tightened his jaw. “You sure you’re okay?”

   His eyes seemed to pierce into Hoseok. “It’s okay, so leave me alone.” Jimin snatched his wrist away from Hoseok’s grip and rushed out of the room, leaving Hoseok alone in his thoughts.

   Maybe he should’ve asked more questions. Maybe he should’ve pressed him further. Maybe he should’ve made Jimin tell him everything that had been going on with him, otherwise they could’ve avoided _the incident_.

   Hoseok woke up in his shared bedroom, disoriented and confused. He never woke up before his alarm except for when he heard odd noises, and he wondered what could’ve woken him up at this time of night. He squinted through the darkness, his eyes landing on Jimin’s empty bed-- scattered sheets and messy piles of clothes. The sound of running water echoed throughout the living area. Hoseok frowned. Why was Jimin taking a bath so late at night? 

   Though he didn’t want to intrude upon Jimin’s business again lest he get brushed off with his cold eyes, he hauled himself out of bed, wrapping his robe around himself. Something didn’t feel quite… _right_.

   “Jimin?” He knocked against the wooden door. “Hey, you in there?”

   There was no reply. _Okay_ , Hoseok shrugged. Maybe he just wanted to be left alone. But, he wasn’t quite satisfied. He knocked louder. “Jimin, hey! Oi, you okay?”

Silence. Hoseok pressed his ears against the door.

   Was his mind playing tricks on him, or was he hearing water spilling out of the tub?

   Cold crept up to his toes, and he jumped backwards. “Shit, what the fuck?” He glanced down, and water was seeping out of bathroom, pooling around his feet. Anger burst within him—Jimin was wasting precious water and racking up a hefty bill for their room.

   He was in the middle of thinking up a good angry speech for his roommate when he noticed something else mixed in with the flooding. Washed-out crimson swirled in the water, and Hoseok felt his heart stop beating.

Something was _definitely_ wrong.

   He shot up to his feet, banging on the door as loudly as he could.

   “Jimin! Open up, or I’m breaking this door down! Jimin!” He got up, and slammed his shoulder against the door. He grunted at the pain that shot up his arm. Hoseok backed up, and decided to kick the door with all he had instead. Anxiety tugged at him, but his adrenaline forced him to keep on going. At times like these, he wished he had more muscle to him, because it took a good few minutes until the door gave out underneath his weight.

   The sight that greeted him would haunt him for the rest of his life.

   Jimin laid limp inside the overflowing bathtub, blood seeping out of the huge gashes in his arm. In his other hand was a penknife stained red, glinting wickedly as it caught the light from the living room.

   Hoseok swallowed harshly. The sickening scent of metal wafted in the air, rising with the steam from the hot water. Maybe it was his sleep-deprivation playing with his mind, but the scene before him felt surreal, almost like a scene straight out of a late-night movie.

   His mind was numb as he trudged through the water and his hands seemed to move on their own as he carefully pulled Jimin out of the bath tub; pulling off his robe and tying it around his arm. The possibility that Jimin could bleed out was incredibly high, since he had no idea how much time had passed since Jimin decided to cut himself.

   Judging from the amount of blood and the size of the cut, it must have not been that long, Hoseok tried to tell himself. Having frayed nerves would do no one any good in these kinds of situation.

   Hoseok barely remembered calling for an ambulance; he barely remembered his choked up voice and fingers desperately pressing against Jimin’s wounds; he barely remembered the salty tears that trailed into his mouth as he called out Jimin’s name.

   Life was oh so cruel to him. He had witnessed the aftermath of his father trapped in the hospital after slicing his own wrists up, and now he had to face his roommate’s suicide attempt. He felt sick to the stomach, and a little too dizzy for his own good. His fears and trauma seemed fresher than ever as he stared down at his fingers, slick with his partner’s blood.

   “I can’t do this,” He cried, his throat locking up. He was well aware of how much his fingers were trembling as he sat in the pool of water, trying his best to apply constant pressure on his cuts.

   Up close, he could see the faded white scars mixed in with newer red ones littered all over Jimin’s forearms. He had suspected that Jimin was cutting ever since Yoongi caught him in bandages, but Hoseok never knew how to approach him about it. Now, he wished he did.

   Miserably, he noticed that he could see Jimin’s many injuries thanks to his wet clothes sticking to his body and loose shorts. Bruises ran up and down his inner thighs, and Hoseok wondered where he got them.

“What are you not telling me, Jimin?” he murmured.

   The rest of the night was a blur of frantic orders and sympathetic glances the moment the paramedics burst through the door. He vaguely remembered the sirens wailing into the night; the people clad in white rushing in and wheeling his friend out; the warm towel placed around him as he stumbled out of the dorm. Curious heads peeked out of their dorm, screeching in horror as Jimin, drenched in his own blood, was wheeled across the hallway.

   The flashing lights from the ambulance seemed like a mockery to Hoseok; far too similar to the neon lights of the stage they had shared a mere few hours ago. Funny how your life can turn upside down in a single night. Just when Hoseok started thinking life was going to get better for him, it all came crashing down.

   He gripped Jimin’s hands tightly as they made their way to the hospital. His fingers felt cold and clammy in his, but Hoseok held on regardless. Jimin’s dark circles seemed much more prominent against his skin; pale from all the blood he had lost. The rhythmic sound of his breathing was muted by the oxygen mask strapped to his face. The whirring machines and constant beeping was quiet enough to slowly drive Hoseok insane; though the trip must have taken less than 10 minutes, it seemed to have lasted a few hours. He was anxious, and wanted nothing more than to get Jimin to safety.

   “Please, please…” He repeated over and over again. He could not afford to lose Jimin—sweet, hardworking, and kind Jimin. Why did it happen to _him_ out of all people? Why did it have to happen to someone who was comparable to the sun itself, someone who had so much more to live for? He was just about to start his bright career as an idol, yet here he was, bleeding out in the back of an ambulance.

A bitter feeling rose in the back of his throat.

_It should’ve been me._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I type these at like, 3 am, and post them immediately after only editing once, I do a lot of editing (fine-tuning?) post-upload, so if you're ever too early after I posted, feel free to come back to see a slightly altered version lol
> 
> It's mostly just fixing misspelling, changing weird sentence structures or making sure I don't reuse a word too often tho so dw you're not missing out


	13. cracked porcelain // hoseok

_I need to get out._

   Numbly, Hoseok stared around the room, unmoving; observing—seeing the world, yet not quite. Underneath his fingertips, he could feel his own pulse, erratic and so unnecessarily loud. His breathing sounded ragged and strained in his ears, yet he barely registered the burning sensation caused by the harsh constriction of his throat every time he took a mere breath.

 _Trapped._ His nails clawed at his own arm. He was trapped here again.

   The constant beeping of machines, the whirring of trolleys against the tile flooring, the occasional cough. A hand twitched, and he caught himself before he could scratch at his own ears. It all sounded too amplified; an annoying buzz in his ears that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried.

   The sickening smell of sterile antiseptics, the jarring stench of dried up sick, the thick metallic scent wafting in the air. Hoseok tried to breathe through his mouth, anything to help reduce the odours that seemed far too familiar for his own comfort.

It was like he was back there again—the night his father tried to commit suicide.

   Blood gushed from his split lips from where his teeth had sunken in too hard, but Hoseok hardly bothered to wipe the crimson trickling from his lips. What did he care? After all, a few more drops of blood would hardly make a difference when he was already drenched in it.

   Hoseok couldn’t remember much of what happened—all he could remember was answering some questions he barely knew the answers to, the flashing red and blue lights, the rough shove as he watched another person he treasured be whisked away behind heavy blue curtains.

How much time had passed since then? An hour? A day? _A week?_

He vaguely remembered fading in and out of consciousness; the concerned glances; the whispered support.

   He felt lost, as if he was a child all over again. Helplessness seized him every waking moment, whenever he allowed his guard to slip. Restlessness tugged at him, the sense that everything was off and absolutely nothing was right tormenting him around the clock. He had no idea what to do, but to curl in on himself and hope the nightmares won’t return. He had had enough of blood and tears in his life; he wanted nothing more than to succumb to sleep and pray it was all a bad dream.

But it wasn’t. And Jimin wasn’t awake and healthy and smiling at him.

   He laughed miserably. Just when he thought everything would go well, just when he thought life finally gave him a break, just when he thought it was finally time for the tides to change, he was back to square one, staring at the exact same scene that had haunted him relentlessly all these years.

   Jimin laid still in his bed, bandages snaking up his arms and an IV drip attached to the nook of his arm. His skin was tinged a sickly green, so starkly different to the usual healthy glow he exuded. His chest rose and fell with every soft breath he took, and Hoseok wondered if he had ever slept so peacefully before.

   His hand felt clammy in Jimin’s, but he refused to let them go. Jimin hadn’t woken up since they admitted him, and Hoseok wondered if he ever will, though he knew that was merely his irrational fears taunting him. His father had woken up, so it made no sense for Jimin to not do the same, right?

He _had_ found Jimin far later than they had found his father back then, though…

   Hoseok shook his head. No, he shouldn’t be so pessimistic. The doctor had assured him that Jimin was stable and would wake up soon.

“Hoseok-hyung…?”

Hoseok almost jumped in his seat in surprise. His head snapped upwards, his eyes meeting Jimin’s.

   He felt tears form in the corner of his eyes, his heart pounding against his chest. His throat felt dry, and his voice sounded hoarse, but he managed to spit out whatever incoherent thought was flashing through his mind at that moment. “You’re awake.” He half-laughed, half-choked. He waved an arm at the nurse passing by and asked her to call over a doctor.

Jimin stared at him blankly.

Hoseok felt his smile drop. “What’s wrong?”

“What…happened to me?”

   Hoseok pursed his lips. Was there no delicate way to break it to him? He had no tact whatsoever. Was he supposed to remind his friend that he found his bleeding out in their bathroom? Was he supposed to tell him he nearly died if it wasn’t for the fact Hoseok had donated his own blood because they ran out of type A blood on the way to the hospital, and Jimin desperately needed a transfusion?

   “You’re in the hospital.” He said simply. He didn’t trust himself not to completely dissociate from the situation, considering he had started seeing ghosts of his past. Images of his deadbeat mother in his daily life was enough, he didn’t need to start seeing the face of his suicidal father in Jimin now, too.

   Just as Jimin started to speak, Jimin’s doctor cleared his throat and pulled Hoseok aside. Hoseok’s fingers felt numb after finally being separated from Jimin, but he said nothing as he wiggled them to try to get back some feeling in them.

“We have certain matters to discuss concerning Jimin-ssi’s health.” The doctor said in a low murmur, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Am I even allowed to? I’m not his family.”

   The doctor tapped his clipboard. “You’re Jung Hoseok, right? Jimin-ssi recently changed his emergency contact to be you, a few weeks ago.”

   Hoseok stared at him in stunned silence. Did Jimin trust him more over his parents? Or was it simply because they were too far away?

   “Please refrain from acting recklessly once you hear this, for the patient’s sake.” The doctor’s expression looked grim. Hoseok held his breath. What was going on? Was Jimin going to die? Was Jimin never going to recover? Were his cuts too deep?

   “We discovered that Jimin-ssi… had multiple anal fissures and scarring. Considering his dislocated hip and various bruises, we have reason to believe that Jimin-ssi was sexually abused.”

Hoseok blinked.

_…What?_

He struggled to regain his composure. Through gritted teeth, he snarled, “You’re telling me he was _raped_? And you’re sure of this?”

   “Yes, all the signs point to what we commonly see in rape victims. I understand this might come as a shock and will be a lot to process right now, but we recommend immediate testing and collecting of evidence so we can identify the abuser.” The doctor’s eyes were filled with pity. “It does not seem to be a one-time occurrence, too. This might have been going on for a while. Do you know of any suspicious characters in his life?”

   Hoseok drew a shuddering breath. Who could it possibly be? Jimin spent day and night training religiously, and rarely were they not together. The only moments where he slipped out of Hoseok’s sight was during his morning trainings and whenever he had vocal training. He wondered if it could have happened during Jimin’s visits to the bar nearby, but he rarely ever went out due to exhaustion.

   Then, as if the broken puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place, a single inkling of an idea came to him. It was as if his entire mind had finally lit up, but at the same time, a sinking feeling of dread filled his stomach.

But it couldn’t be…. _right_?

The weird hours, the random extra training, constantly tired and injured, the punishment…

   “No way.” He whispered. It felt crazy to think about it— it never crossed his mind how differently Jimin was treated compared to the other trainees, seemingly having a say in the company’s decisions. How had he never found it odd that Jimin practically handed him a career? How had he never questioned why the company let Jimin pick and choose his roommate however he pleased?

“You have an idea?” The doctor prodded, raising an eyebrow.

“Roughly,” He muttered. “Oh my fucking god.”

   Jimin silently agreed to let the doctors record their findings, obediently standing still as they took pictures of his stomach, thighs, and arms. Hoseok was kicked out when it came the time to swab and collect DNA evidence, but he waited quietly outside.

   As the doctors zipped everything up in Ziploc bags, Hoseok slid into the vacant seat next to Jimin’s bed. “How come you never reported him?” He asked quietly. He didn’t know what emotion he should show on his face—he wasn’t quite sure what he felt, either. Did he feel angry? Disappointed? Betrayed that Jimin didn’t think to tell him about something so serious?

   Jimin looked away, pained. “I was scared. I didn’t know what to do.” He tried to hide his sobs, but the hand in Hoseok’s had a slight tremor, and his voice was shaking. Hoseok’s frown deepened.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” He rubbed small circles on the back of Jimin’s hand. “What happened?”

   Jimin blinked back his tears. “At- at first nothing seemed out of the ordinary, you know? I thought everything was finally looking good—a job offer, the kind smile, the fair pay. I didn’t think much of it, I- I really just thought luck had finally come to someone like me.” His knuckles turned white, his jaw clenched. “Then one night, it happened. He touched me, forced me to kiss his disgusting mouth, told me to get on my knees and—“ He cried out, a sound so pitiful and full of despair. Hoseok’s heart clenched.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready, it’s okay.” He said quietly.

   Jimin shook his head, his eyes puffy and red. “No, I think I’ve kept it under wraps long enough. I’m done being silent.” His eyes seemed to pierce into Hoseok. “He threatened me. Told me if I ever reported it, he would make sure I won’t ever find a job ever again. He said he’d even hurt my family. I couldn’t do anything. I thought the madman might just do it. After all, what can I say? I was a poor boy, my family barely had anything.”

   Hoseok could feel his rage growing within, but he forced himself to calm down. No good would come out of erupting in a fit at the hospital. “Then? How often did this happen?”

   “It started happening more often around the time I was alone at the dorms.” Jimin said bitterly. “He called me to his office and forbade me to train, cleared all my schedule. Instead, he forced me to become his toy. Day, night. It didn’t seem like it would ever end.”

Realization dawned upon Hoseok.

A time when Jimin was alone at the dorms?

   He felt sick. Did that mean while he was busy cuddling with Yoongi, Jimin was getting abused repeatedly by their sick boss?

   He snapped back to reality the moment he noticed Jimin’s eyes watching him, searching his face. “It’s not your fault, hyung.”

   “Don’t comfort me when all of this resulted in you being hurt.” Hoseok growled. “Then the punishment, don’t tell me—“

   Jimin closed his eyes, a tormented expression contorting his face. His voice was barley higher than a breath. “Yes.”

   Hoseok ducked his head, unsure if he could face Jimin when he could barely control his own face. Rarely had he ever felt such pure fury before. Heat spread all over him, and he wondered if Jimin could feel the naked anger pouring from his sharp eyes.

   “Don’t.” Jimin took both of his hands and clasped them inside his own. “We report this to the police. There is clear evidence who did it. That bastard never cleaned up after himself, there’s no way it’ll be inconclusive. Let him rot in jail, instead of you dirtying your hands because of that bastard.”

   “The police?” Hoseok almost cried out in exasperation. “They’re fucking useless. They won’t do anything, _they don’t care_.”

    He was all too familiar with how the police force operated—they couldn’t catch a simple vandal like Taehyung, were they even capable of capturing the CEO of a company? After years of living on the streets and getting into brawls, he was plenty used to seeing them in action, or lack thereof. They weren’t to be trusted, not a single one of them.

   It wasn’t as if sexual harassment cases were unheard of in the entertainment industry. There was just a simple reason why no accusation ever came to a satisfactory conclusion— _money_. The real symbol of wealth in Korea was being able to escape any jail cell no matter how harsh your crime and no matter how hopeless it all seemed for you from the outside.

   Jimin pursed his lips. “I’ll try it regardless. Hyung, even if things seem hopeless, I want to try. You were so desperate to help me, at least let me help myself this time around.”

Hoseok glanced wearily at the bandages around his forearms. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

   Jimin’s smile faltered for a second. “I was scared. I didn’t know I had that much blood in me. I felt so helpless, like everything was out of my control.” He bit his lip. “I want to believe that things will be different this time around.”

   Even in times like these, Jimin took it upon himself to ensure Hoseok was sufficiently cheered up, despite the fact he was confined to the hospital bed and wrapped in thick bandages.

Hoseok squeezed his hands. “I’ll support you every step of the way.”

   Perhaps Hoseok was foolish. He should’ve known by now that the universe would not be so kind to him. Had he truly expected things to turn out the way they wanted? Did he learn absolutely nothing after more than two decades of living on the wretched Earth? Maybe it was because Jimin’s optimism had rubbed off on him more than he’d care to admit, because he was absolutely positive that if he had Jimin by his side, all would be well.

   The next time Hoseok saw Jimin, there wasn’t a single trace of a smile on his face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
